


A Thousand Years

by BeccaBear93



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur Pendragon Returns, Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Not actually alternate universe though, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Quests, Reincarnation, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 08:17:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11413899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaBear93/pseuds/BeccaBear93
Summary: Merlin has lived through many lifetimes waiting for the Once and Future King to rise again. He never thought he'd find him at a university in London just when he was ready to give up.ON HIATUS. Please check the latest Author's Note for details.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit: I'm writing this as I go and have no clue where it's going yet. I just know that some friends got me back into Merlin after about four years away and I wanted to write some reincarnation/college not-actually-AU fluff haha
> 
> Title, of course, taken from the song by Christina Perri. Which reminds me of a warning: I'm going with the results of a quick google search that says King Arthur would have lived in the 5th or 6th century. I have no idea if the show follows that logic or not, because history is one thing that I am very, very bad at, but it honestly doesn't matter a whole lot either way. There are just small mentions of the time period. Also a warning for overuse of parentheses, but I promise that's only in this chapter.

One hundred years is a long time to live. _Although_ , Merlin supposes _, it isn’t all_ that _long by modern standards._

1500 years is a _very_ long time to live, and still well beyond the scope of current medical advances.

He isn’t sure exactly how long he’s been alive anymore, but it’s been long enough to do nearly everything humanly possible, as well as quite a few things that most people _wouldn’t_ consider humanly possible.

He’s visited every major landmark in the world (and seen many of them while they were still being built). He’s perfected many forms of magic and used them to heal the wounded and feed the hungry. (Once, his “miracles” even led to the people of a certain village worshipping him as a god. That was an awkward time.) He’s tried his hand at music, at forging weapons, at art, at computer science, at medicine, and at manual labor. (That last one turned out to be pretty horrific when he realized that he was under constant supervision and couldn’t use his magic at all.) He’s read thousands of books and learned hundreds of languages, some of which are long dead now. He’s met more people than he can count (though he’s never stayed close to any for long out of fear of getting too attached and having to watch them die).

There are only two things that Merlin can think of that he hasn’t done yet:

  1. Learning through the formal education system rather than haphazard intake of whatever he stumbles across.
  2. Dating. (After all, not many people would be willing to date someone who always looks three times older than them, regardless of their actual age. He’s been perfectly content to keep it that way, but perhaps it’s time to finally let go of the unrequited love he’s clung to for all these years.)



So Merlin turns himself back into a 20-year-old and spends a full hour staring at the reflection of the man he was lifetimes ago. He whips up the necessary records with a few whispered words. He buys a decent-sized house in London with money earned fairly over the many years of wandering. And he applies to be a student at the nearest university.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it's taken me a bit longer than I planned to get this chapter up, but I promise I _am_ working on this fic. In fact, I've been writing nearly every day and have over 10k words written so far. It's just coming all out of order. So, with what I've written so far in mind, I have a few comments/warnings:
> 
> 1) This is shaping up to be a pretty long fic. It has grown into something that I did not have planned at all, so... Strap yourselves in for the ride.  
> 2) There is likely going to be some smut in this fic (my first attempt at it other than a few relatively mild scenes in FLDY). However, it is not by any means going to be the focus, and I'll try to remember to make a clear warning in those chapters so you can skip them if you want to.  
> 3) I'm going to keep trying to update at least once every two weeks, but I apologize if I fall behind at any point. Like I said, scenes keep coming to me out of order, and I'm also job hunting right now, which takes quite a bit of time. I'm usually pretty good about sticking to update schedules, though, so it probably won't be much of a problem.
> 
> Alright, now that that's out of the way, on to the story!

Merlin isn’t used to working on anyone’s schedule but his own anymore, so of course he forgets to set an alarm for his very first day of class. He wakes up, checks the clock to find that he’s already ten minutes late, and jumps out of bed. He tugs on some clean clothes, magics his hair and teeth clean, and rushes out the door, cursing himself for oversleeping all the while.

Merlin dodges people left and right as he passes them in his mad dash through the streets. Surprisingly, it’s someone else that eventually runs into _him_ , rather than the other way around. The man is sprinting in the same direction and swears as he collides with Merlin’s back. Merlin reflexively puts his hands out to stop his fall, cursing when they hit the hard pavement. He rolls to a sitting position and starts brushing loose rocks out of his palms. He half expects the other man to already be gone, because that often seems to be the way of people in big cities.

Instead, he’s surprised when a hand appears in his line of sight and the man says, “Sorry about that.”

Merlin’s heart jumps into his throat when he hears the familiar voice, but of course it’s a coincidence. _Of course it can’t really be…_ His eyes trail from the hand, up the man’s arm, and to his face. Merlin is sure his heart must stop beating entirely then. “I-It’s… fine,” he says weakly, not entirely surprised when his vision blurs with tears.

“You sure? You don’t _look_ fine,” he says worriedly as he pulls Merlin back to standing.

“No, really, it’s okay, I  just…” Merlin trails off. _I just was losing hope that I’d ever see you again. I just didn’t think you’d look the same when you were reincarnated. I just missed you so fucking much._

Arthur—because it _has_ to be him, there’s no way it _isn’t_ —leads him to a bench and gently pushes him down onto it. He still looks concerned, and Merlin can’t blame him; he can’t stop crying or staring. Arthur takes a seat next to him and asks, “So what’s your name, mate?”

“Merlin. And before you ask, yes, that is my real name. I’ve got the ID to prove it,” he says, digging his wallet out to show his student ID before Arthur actually has a chance to respond.

“No shit?” the other man says with a laugh, his eyes roaming over the card. “I’m Arthur! And hey, looks like we go to the same university, too!”

“Funny coincidence,” Merlin says with a small smile, wondering if Arthur can feel the same magnetic pull in his soul drawing them together that Merlin feels. He shoves his wallet back into his pocket and rubs at his eyes again, relieved when no more tears fall. He’s still feeling raw and shocked, but there will be plenty of time to get emotional when he’s home alone.

“Yeah, no kidding!” They sit in silence for a few minutes. Arthur squints at him as if he’s trying to remember something long forgotten, and Merlin’s heart fills with hope when he speaks again. “Listen, um, Merlin…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m _really_ sorry about knocking you over.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Merlin insists, chuckling quietly. His heart falls a bit as he realizes that Arthur hasn’t remembered anything, but the simple fact that he’s _here_ , that he’s _alive_ , is more than enough to keep Merlin happy.

“No, really. I should have been watching where I was going. Is there some way I could make it up to you?” he asks with a hopeful smile.

 _Just don’t leave me alone again._ As soon as the desperate thought crosses his mind, Merlin realizes that it’s really all he wants. He just wants to stay by Arthur’s side, in whatever way that might be possible. Thinking quickly, he replies, “I don’t know… How about you give me your number, and I’ll let you know if I think of something?”

Arthur grins. “Sure!” They trade phones and type out their contact information. When Arthur takes his back, he glances at the time and groans. “Shit! I’m sorry Merlin, but I have to run to class,” he says, already standing up. “Make sure you think of something, okay?”

Merlin nods, his smile falling as Arthur runs off down the street. _It’s okay_ , he reminds himself. _You’ve waited hundreds of years. A few more days won’t kill you._ He watches Arthur’s back until he’s completely out of sight, then collapses back against the bench in stunned silence.

 _Maybe this is my reward for finally deciding to settle down,_ he thinks. _Maybe Arthur’s lived a dozen lives by now and I’ve missed them all by not sticking around in one place._ It’s an extremely unlikely possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. The thought alone is almost enough to make him start crying all over again.

Merlin opens his contact list just to reassure himself that what just happened was real, frowning when he doesn’t see any new entries in the As. _Maybe I’ve finally lost my mind,_ he thinks, the thought far less surprising or upsetting than it should be. He keeps scrolling, though, and it startles a laugh out of him when he finally spots an entry for ‘King Arthur’.

“It was real,” he whispers to himself in relieved disbelief. A passing woman shoots him a look and pulls her child a bit closer, but he pays them no mind. Merlin tilts his head back and grins at the sky.

“It was _real._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin doesn’t notice until long after he stumbles back home in a daze that he’s just skipped his entire first day of class. “Whoops. Shit,” he mumbles without much feeling once he finally realizes his mistake.

He spends a long time trying to think of something to have Arthur do for him, wondering whether or not to play it safe. In the end, he settles for a compromise, something that Arthur can take however he wants to. Merlin waits until the next morning to text him.

_Is my wounded pride worth a cup of coffee?_

Then he heads to his history class, where he’s relieved to find he hasn’t been kicked out for missing the first day. In fact, he doubts the professor even noticed his absence in the class of over 200 students.

The class is interesting and easily holds his attention for the next two hours. This is mostly because he’s simultaneously amused and annoyed to find that several events have been twisted to seem quite different from how he remembers them actually happening.

Merlin’s mobile buzzes in his pocket just as he steps out the door and fumbles in his bag for a map of the campus. He sets the hunt aside for a moment, already smiling to himself as he steps out of the way of the stream of people and opens his texts.

 _King Arthur_ _: Only if it’s actual coffee and not some $5 sugary crap :P_

_King Arthur: Jk. Of course. Whatever you want is fine_

_King Arthur: I have class today, but I’m free after 3, or any time tomorrow_

Merlin checks the schedule he’d written on the front page of a notebook and scowls. He has a break after his next class, but the last one starts right at 3.

He’s tempted to just drop everything and run to Arthur, because really, what does any of it matter now that he’s finally returned? But tuition wasn’t cheap, and being a student gives him a connection to Arthur anyways. It can be something to talk about when they meet, since he obviously can’t explain everything about Arthur’s past life to him right away. That would just make him think Merlin is crazy and ensure that he never wanted to see him again.

Merlin sighs, regretfully admitting to himself that waiting is probably the better option. At least it’s only one more day. It’s almost funny how hard it is to keep reminding himself that such a short span of time is nothing compared to how long he’s already spent waiting.

_Tomorrow works for me :)_

Arthur’s response is nearly instantaneous.

_King Arthur: Great! We can figure out a time and place to meet then_

Merlin grins at his phone, finally finds his map, and continues on. He spends the rest of the day distracted and bouncing in his seat, his heart swelling every time he thinks of what tomorrow will bring.

* * *

Merlin arrives at the campus Starbucks 20 minutes early, barely managing to refrain from leaving even earlier. The nearest barista keeps sneaking glares at him for not buying anything, but he ignores her in favor of watching the doors carefully. Five minutes before their planned meeting time, Arthur appears. Merlin stands up and waves to catch his attention.

When they’d met two days ago, Merlin had been too shocked and too busy staring at Arthur’s face to notice, but now he realizes just how bizarre the sight of Arthur in a hoodie and jeans is. He restrains his laughter as Arthur sits down across from him, instead just giving him a bright grin.

“What?” Arthur asks defensively, eyes narrowing at Merlin’s expression.

“Nothing, I’m just… glad to see you,” he replies, smile softening into something more genuine.

“Oh. Well… I’m glad to see you, too,” Arthur says, flashing a crooked grin.

 _How much is too much?_ Merlin wonders, wanting to press farther. He’s fairly certain that Arthur’s new life didn’t come with memories of his old life, though. On the other hand, the first time around, they had bantered from the day they met and become friends not long after. It hadn’t even taken very long for their relationship to become… whatever it had been in the end.

“Well, let’s get in line to order. The longer we wait, the worse it’ll get,” Arthur says, interrupting his thoughts.

“Right,” Merlin agrees quietly. _Arthur’s clearly trying to hurry this along_ , he thinks, eying the line. He figures that if he’s lucky, it might give him ten minutes to convince Arthur to not just walk out of his life again so quickly.

Of course, it’s just his luck that his mind goes completely blank at that moment and he forgets all the conversations he’s been rehearsing in his head for the past two days. They move forward at a snail’s pace, silent and not looking at each other. _That’s it. Over a thousand years and I finally find him again, only to lose him because I have no social skills,_ Merlin thinks hysterically. He bites his lip hard and tries to ignore the pain in his chest.

Then a miracle happens. Arthur clears his throat and saves him. “So, what’s your major?” It’s awkward, but it’s an opening, and at this point, Merlin will take whatever he can get.

“I’m not sure yet,” he replies, pulse racing as he clings desperately to this one last chance. “I’m thinking maybe history, because I have some… experience in that field,” he adds with a chuckle.

Arthur hums. “I’m taking a history class right now, but… It’s not really my thing. I’m just not good with remembering all the dates. But if you’re undecided, does that mean you’re a first year?”

“Yep.” He gives a self-deprecating smile and a shrug. “Just a little newbie here.”

Arthur laughs. “That’s alright. I am, too. I’m sure we’ll find our way alright, though.”

“Do you know what _you’re_ going for yet?” Merlin asks curiously. _What would an Arthur with no royal duties want to do? Some kind of sport? Business? Political science?_

“Sociology major and an English minor,” he answers with no hesitation.

Merlin blinks in surprise but thinks, _It makes sense in a strange way. Well, the sociology part does, at least. You can’t take care of a kingdom very well without understanding how it works._ Worry gnaws at Merlin though, because it’s a reminder that he doesn’t know this Arthur very well yet. Maybe that has nothing to do with why he chose the major he did. Maybe a different upbringing led to a completely different person and he’s just reading into things too much.

They reach the front of the line and Arthur turns to him. “What do you want?”

“Oh, um, a tall mocha, please,” Merlin says, half to Arthur and half to the man at the register.

“Same for me, please, but white chocolate,” Arthur says. The young man nods and marks their cups silently. After Arthur’s paid, they move out of the way to wait for their drinks and Merlin snickers. “What?” Arthur asks defensively.

“What happened to ‘no sugary crap’? A white mocha is just about as sweet as you can get!”

“First of all, no it’s not.” Merlin raises an eyebrow but Arthur just continues on. “Secondly, I was _joking_. Why on Earth would I care what kind of _coffee_ anyone liked?”

“So you don’t think black coffee is the epitome of manliness, then?” Merlin asks with a smirk.

Arthur scoffs. “No, I think that black coffee is bland and disgusting, and that the food or drink someone likes says absolutely nothing about them.”

“Fair enough,” Merlin replies with a small smile, and they fall into a comfortable silence. Merlin watches the baristas bustle around and basks in the familiar presence of his king at his side. Their names are called after a minute and he sighs quietly, aware that it’s their signal to go their separate ways. Arthur has made up for running into him, and Merlin hasn’t given him any more reason to stick around. He picks up his drink and turns to leave, preparing to come up with a new plan or maybe even wait until Arthur’s next rebirth, when the man in question catches his elbow.

“Our table was over here,” he reminds Merlin with a raised brow. “Nobody’s stolen it yet, incredibly.”

“Right,” Merlin says breathlessly, grinning. He follows Arthur back to the table and collapses in a chair. They’ve been standing side-by-side nearly the entire time they’ve been here, and now that they’re face-to-face, Merlin shamelessly takes the opportunity to stare. Silence falls over them again, and it starts to inch from comfortable to awkward, so he blurts out the first thought that comes to mind. “Did you know that cuttlefish are colorblind?”

Arthur stares at him blankly for a long moment before rolling his eyes. “Shut up, Merlin.” Merlin can’t help but grin at the familiar phrase, even though it makes Arthur look at him like he’s crazy.

After a minute, Arthur hesitantly asks, “Was there a reason that you brought that up?” He’s still staring at Merlin like he has two heads, but he can’t hide the amusement in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Merlin says with a shrug. He laughs. “Ice breaker, I guess?”

“Right,” Arthur says, and Merlin catches a glimpse of his smile just before he hides it with his cup.

“Thank you, by the way,” Merlin says, holding up his own cup. Needlessly, he adds, “For the coffee.”

Arthur shakes his head. “It’s the least I could do for making you cry.”

Anyone who didn’t know him would think he was making a sincere attempt at an apology, but Merlin isn’t fooled. He can hear the slight teasing lilt to Arthur’s voice and scowls in response. “I did _not_ cry!” he objects.

“You kinda did,” Arthur replies with a smirk.

Merlin purses his lips, knowing that Arthur won’t let him get away with a lie, or with his dignity intact. Eventually, he admits, “Fine, maybe I was crying, but it wasn’t because you knocked me over.”

At this, Arthur looks genuinely concerned. “It wasn’t? Then what happened?”

“Nothing, I just—it was nothing,” Merlin insists. “I was just really happy.”

“Oh? What about?”

“Nothing,” he repeats, but Arthur clearly isn’t satisfied.

Catching onto the fact that Merlin won’t give him any answers, he starts taking random guesses. “Promotion? Proposal? New baby sibling?” he begins, but Merlin cuts him off with a loud laugh that draws glares from the tables around them.

“No, no! Nothing like that!” he says, grinning. “I’m focusing on school, so no job at the moment, I’m single, and I haven’t seen—” Merlin stops before he wanders into thoughts that will lead to mourning and self-pitying, and instead just says, “And no siblings.”

Arthur’s eyes narrow at the unfinished sentence, but he says nothing. After a long minute of silence, he sighs. “You’re not going to tell me what you were crying about, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he says brightly. _You’d think I was completely insane._

“Fine,” Arthur replies, sounding put-upon. He gives another overdramatic sigh and says, “Let’s talk about something else then, hm? Tell me about yourself.”

Merlin blinks, his mind quickly running through what’s okay to tell and what isn’t. “Well, I was born in a tiny town where I… didn’t quite fit in, to put it lightly. When I was old enough, I moved to the big city.” Surely, Arthur will assume he means London, so that’s safe enough to tell. With a giggle, he adds, “And I started working for a royal prat there.”

“I feel like there’s a story there,” Arthur says, leaning forward slightly.

“Oh, believe me, there is. It’s too long to tell right now, though.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Alright,” Merlin says hesitantly. He continues double-checking every detail in his mind as he begins, cutting out anything that might give away too much. “So, funnily enough, this guy’s name was _also_ Arthur, and I was basically his servant.”

Merlin laughs again, and Arthur grins back, and suddenly he knows that they’re going to be okay. Whatever happens, it’ll work out in the end, just like it always has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks and credit to Kam for giving me the cuttlefish bit when I went screaming to people with "Quick, give me a weird, random fact! About animals or something!"


	4. Chapter 4

When Merlin walks through the door of his history class on Monday, a mop of blond hair reflecting the light from far overhead immediately catches his attention. He shakes his head and continues toward the same seat he’d taken last class, but his eyes keep traveling to the back of the man’s head against his will. Finally, he sighs and redirects his course. _No harm in just checking_ , he justifies to himself.

As he gets closer, he gets a clearer view of not only the young man’s hair, but also the set of his shoulders and, eventually, an ear and the shape of his jawline. Merlin grins, more and more sure with each step that it is, in fact, Arthur. Sneaking up next to him, he leans down into Arthur’s space and says, “What a surprise to see you here, Arthur!”

Arthur jumps with a gasp, and Merlin doesn’t bother to restrain a smug giggle as he sits down next to him. “Merlin, you—!”

“Idiot?” Merlin guesses cheerfully. “Girl? Buffoon?”

Arthur gives him a strange look. “All of the above,” he says slowly.

 “Fair enough.” Merlin digs a notebook and pencil out of his bag, still grinning at the bewildered but amused look Arthur’s watching him with. “So, I didn’t know you were in this class!”

“I didn’t realize _you_ were, either.”

“Maybe we should study together.”

“Merlin.” Arthur sighs heavily. “We’re not even a week into the class, there are no tests yet.”

“Er, right… I meant, you know, work together on the homework. Or something.”

Arthur shakes his head and cocks an eyebrow at him, exasperated, but after a few more moments, he shrugs. “Fine. Why not?”

“Great! Do you want to… Uh…” Merlin bites down on his tongue, picturing his house filled with magical instruments and books. _On second thought, maybe it’s not such a good idea to invite him over_.

“I’m living on campus, so we can just do it in my room if you don’t mind the insanity that is the dorms,” Arthur says with a chuckle.

“Um, right. Sure, that sounds great,” Merlin answers. His brain stumbled over Arthur’s voice saying, “we can just do it in my room,” and it’s harder to force back on track than he would have expected. He idly wonders if he’s given himself the mind and hormones of a 20-year-old along with the rest of the body.

Arthur suddenly shushes him and gestures to the front of the room. Merlin turns to see the professor stepping up to the podium and sighs. There’s so much lost time to make up for with Arthur, and he doesn’t feel like the time they have will ever be enough.

* * *

It takes a few more days before they actually meet up outside of class, but Merlin finds that he doesn’t mind much, because those days are full of whispered jokes in class and texts in the early hours of the morning. He almost decides to give up on Arthur’s memories returning, because this fresh start looks more and more promising with each passing hour. But then he remembers all that they shared in the past, and his determination is renewed, even if he doesn’t quite have a plan yet.

When they do finally manage to make plans to study together, Merlin goes to Arthur’s dorm with butterflies in his stomach. He stands outside the building, bouncing from foot to foot as he texts Arthur, and a minute later the door opens.

“Hi,” Arthur says, grinning and sounding a bit out of breath.

“You didn’t have to run,” Merlin laughs.

Arthur waves him off as he leads the way inside. “Wouldn’t want to leave you standing out there in the cold.”

Merlin casts a dubious look up at the clear, sunny sky before following him. He makes a curious noise when they end up in a large room filled with couches, tables, and a kitchenette, and Arthur flushes.

“Sorry, we’re stuck in the common room today, because my roommate is a complete douchebag.” Merlin snorts at the unexpected insult and then just cocks an eyebrow at him, waiting for a more thorough explanation. Arthur turns an even brighter shade of red, glancing away as he admits, “I’ve been sexiled.”

That startles a laugh out of Merlin. It sounds way too loud in the otherwise silent room, and he covers his mouth in embarrassment as Arthur smirks. “Serves you right,” he mutters mischievously.

“For what? What could I possibly have done to deserve being kicked out of my own room?” Arthur asks incredulously.

Merlin shrugs. “Generally being a prat?” he suggests. “Besides, you’ve probably done the same to him at some point, right?”

“What? No!” Arthur objects, sounding scandalized. “First of all, Merlin, we’ve only been here a few weeks. Secondly, I’m single… at the moment.” The way Arthur’s gaze drops to his lips as he tacks on the last few words makes Merlin’s heart leap into his throat, though he tries not to get his hopes up. Then Arthur claps and looks away, and Merlin feels like he can breathe again. “Right! Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Right,” Merlin agrees, dropping his textbook and notes onto the table across from where Arthur’s things are already spread out. He sits down, moves to open his book, and freezes. “Uh… Remind me again… What chapter are we supposed to have read by tomorrow?”

Arthur rolls his eyes and slides around the table to sit next to him. “You are absolutely hopeless, Merlin,” he says, pulling the book towards himself. He flips through the pages and then pushes it back. “There you go. Chapter nine.”

“Um. Thanks,” Merlin says. They fall silent and he forces himself to focus on reading instead of on the warmth Arthur’s thigh radiates where it’s pressed against his. After a few pages, though, his mind begins to drift, and he finds himself thinking of things that seem far more important at the moment.

“Arthur,” Merlin eventually says softly. Arthur turns to look at him and he freezes. He has to ask, because the question’s been eating at him ever since that day at Starbucks, but he’s almost scared to know the answer. He swallows nervously and asks, “Why did you choose sociology?”

Arthur hums thoughtfully, head resting on his hand. “I guess it’s because… I’ve always thought that there’s too much strife in the world. There are too many people struggling, and starving, and fighting. And I think that the only way that we can solve all those problems is to find compromises, and _that’s_ only possible if we understand all the different groups and types of people who have complaints.” He stops, takes a deep breath in, and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. I guess I’m a bit of a dreamer to think anything could be solved so easily, huh?”

Merlin grins, because Arthur is still the same person he knew after all. Arthur shoots him a questioning look, and he just shakes his head. “No. No, Arthur, it’s… It’s brilliant that you care so much.”

Arthur says nothing, ducking his head sheepishly and returning to his book. Merlin watches him for another minute, still beaming, before following his example.

* * *

“Done!” Merlin groans after a few hours, slamming his book closed. “Why is it all so long and dry?”

Arthur looks up from his notebook, raising an eyebrow, and Merlin can see the dirty joke from a mile away. It never comes, though. Instead, Arthur asks with laughter in his voice, “Still so sure about that history degree?”

“If it’s all like _this_ , then no, I’m not sure at all!” Merlin says, gesturing dramatically at his book. “All of these events were so _interesting_! How did they manage to turn them into something so _boring_?”

“You’d almost think you’ve never had to read a history book before in your life,” Arthur muses.

“I haven’t!” Merlin exclaims. Arthur just blinks at him and he hurriedly explains, “I, um… had a weird childhood.”

“Right…” Arthur drawls.

Merlin drops his head to the book with a frustrated growl. “Maybe I should just go into healthcare,” he says, half-joking. Voice muffled, he adds, “I have some experience with that, too.”

“Are you sure that’s a good choice for you?” Arthur asks skeptically.

“I know, I know,” he sighs. “‘Merlin, you’re too much of an idiot for medical school.’”

“What? No.” Arthur’s voice softens, and he says quietly, “I just mean… If you’re in the medical field--depending on which part you're in, of course... You’ll probably have to watch people die, and you can’t always do anything to stop it.”

Merlin looks up to find Arthur watching him with a worried expression and his heart melts just a little. “I could,” he says confidently, wishing desperately that he could explain himself.

Arthur watches him for a few minutes. Merlin hates the sad smile he’s wearing and wishes he could say something to make it disappear. “I know you’d do everything you could,” Arthur says eventually.

Merlin sighs and stands up to stretch. “I think we could use a coffee break,” he says. He’s already wired just from being here and doesn’t really need any caffeine, but they clearly need to get out of this room and off of this conversation topic.

“Sure,” Arthur agrees easily, shuffling his papers into a neat pile and shoving them into his book. “I’ll go see if my roommate’s woman of the week is gone yet so we can leave our stuff there,” he adds, making a face.

“Alright,” Merlin says, circling around to lean against the back of the couch and watching Arthur disappear down the hall.

A few minutes later, Arthur pops his head out from around the corner and claims, “It’s safe.” Merlin chuckles and follows him around the corner and up the stairs to the third floor, where Arthur enters his room and points to a desk. “Just set everything there.”

“’Kay.” He takes the opportunity to have a quick glance around the room. One side looks like a tornado swept through it recently, while the other has an unmade bed and clothes on the floor but a meticulously clean desk. Merlin’s a bit surprised to realize that the latter is Arthur’s. _Apparently he_ can _get by without a manservant after all_ , he thinks, laughing to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur asks suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing,” Merlin replies. He just laughs more and sidles out of the room when Arthur glares at him.

* * *

The walk is quiet, Arthur seemingly lost in his own thoughts. For the first time, Merlin takes the chance to really appreciate the beauty of their campus, flowers and interesting architecture and sculptures spread everywhere. There aren’t many people around since it’s a weekend, but those who are all seem to go in pairs. Friends chat excitedly and couples wander aimlessly. He feels a small pang in his chest when he spots two young men walking with their clasped hands swinging between them, but soon enough they enter Starbucks and he can easily shift his thoughts elsewhere.

They place their orders, and Arthur glances around the crowded room. “Oh, there’s still an open table over there!” he says, pointing. “I’ll go save it for us. Do you mind grabbing our drinks when they’re done?”

“No problem,” Merlin agrees with a small smile. He pulls out his mobile while he waits, quickly getting absorbed in the latest ridiculous news story.

“Excuse me,” a nervous voice calls, and Merlin glances up, expecting their coffee to be ready. His breath catches when, instead, he sees Gwen leaning over the counter. She waves him over and he walks forward slowly, as if in a dream. “Hi, um…” She glances at the name on the cup in her hand before setting it down in front of him. “Merlin. I was just… I mean, I’ve seen you two in here before, and…”

She huffs, clearly frustrated with herself, and Merlin prods, “What is it?” To himself, he simply wonders, _How did I not notice her last time?_

“Do I… know you?” Gwen asks, eyes narrowing curiously. “I mean… Do we have a class together or something? You both just seem really familiar.”

“I… I don’t think so,” Merlin says, nearly choking on the lie. “Maybe we’ve just passed each other on campus or something.”

“Maybe,” she agrees, though she doesn’t quite seem to believe it. “Also, er… Forgive me if this is too personal, I know I'm basically just a stranger and you really don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I was just curious—”

“Gwen,” Merlin cuts her off, making a point of looking at her nametag. Amused, he says, “Just ask.”

“Right, sorry.” She’s blushing furiously, but takes a deep breath and manages to force out, “Are you together? Like, a couple? I mean, not that it matters if you are! You’d make a very cute couple—I mean, that is—”

“We’re not,” Merlin answers, just to save her from her own rambling. He smiles, but there’s something sad to it, both because of his own answer and because he’s missed his dear friend even more than he’s ever realized. “Just friends.”

“Right, of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume!”

“It’s fine,” he insists, willing himself not to cry as he watches the familiar way Gwen wrings her hands nervously.

“If you’re sure,” she says doubtfully. She takes a step back, drawing herself up with a sharp intake of breath, and gestures to his cup. Sounding much more professional, she says, “Well, there’s your drink. Your friend’s will be up in just a moment. And…” Gwen hesitates, biting down on her lips for a moment before adding, “I hope to see you around more often.”

“We’ll stop by again soon,” Merlin promises eagerly. Silently, he makes another promise just to himself. _If I’m being given another chance, I won’t let either of you go that easily_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, imagining Arthur saying the word "douchebag" has probably been one of the funniest moments of writing a modern fic so far.
> 
> ETA: Sorry guys, but the next chapter will probably be late. I somehow managed to land an interview for... well, basically my dream job. So the next few days are going to be spent less on writing and more on researching the company and preparing for the interview.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the interview was two weeks ago, but I've barely managed to write anything since then because I've been to distracted waiting to hear back. I did finally manage to finish a chapter though, so I hope you like it!

It turns out to be easy for Merlin to strike up a friendship between himself, Arthur, and Gwen. Hanging out and waiting for her breaks means that they end up spending way too much on coffee, but it’s worth it and she sneaks them free ones sometimes anyway.

“This one’s great, Gwen,” Merlin tells her as she joins him and Arthur at their table. She’s taken to experimenting with different flavors and always wants to hear what he thinks of them. Today, though, she seems distracted, barely humming an acknowledgement while her eyes stayed glued to the door.

“Waiting for someone?” Arthur asks, eyebrow cocked.

Gwen either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that he’s teasing. She nods, shooting him a quick grin before her attention returns to the entrance. “My boyfriend, Lance. He’s been busy lately and I haven’t been able to see him.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Arthur nearly chokes on his drink in his haste to get the words out.

At the same time, Merlin asks, “Lance as in—” He stops, grateful that Arthur’s question was loud enough to drown his own out.

Gwen suddenly makes a small excited sound, bouncing in her seat and waving. Merlin follows her gaze to find, as expected, Lancelot. He can’t help but think that destiny has conspired to bring them together, because what other explanation could there be for all four of them ending up in the same place at the same time again?

“Hello darling,” Lance says with the same soft smile he’s always reserved for Gwen. He stoops to kiss her, quick and chaste, before taking the seat next to her. Arthur scoots out of his space, closer to Merlin, which catches Lance’s attention. “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Gwen says with a sheepish smile. She points to each of them in turn. “This is Merlin, and Arthur. And as you’ve probably figured out, this is my boyfriend, Lance.”

They give their greetings, and Lance chuckles. “Merlin and Arthur, huh? What a weird coincidence. My parents named me for Lancelot, though they shortened it because they knew I’d get mocked by other kids for that. I’m guessing you got teased a lot over the years, too?” he asks, and Merlin shrugs uncomfortably.

“You could say that.”

Thankfully, Lance lets the subject drop, turning back to his girlfriend. “So, um, Gwen… It’s great to meet your friends, but I thought there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Oh! Right!” Gwen gives a sheepish smile and stands, her hand on Lance’s elbow urging him to do the same. “Can you two excuse us for a moment?”

“Of course. Is… everything okay?” Arthur asks cautiously.

She laughs. “Yes, it’s fine. Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad, just a bit… private.”

“Right.”

They walk to the other side of the café, and Merlin and Arthur watch as they hunch together and speak in hushed voices. Lance leans back after a moment to give her a surprised look and laugh. Gwen beams back, and Arthur takes it as his cue to turn his attention back to Merlin.

“I didn’t know Gwen was seeing anyone.”

“Neither did I. He seems nice, though.” The moment the words leave his mouth, Merlin regrets them. _How could I forget they were_ married? _I’m such an idiot!_

“I suppose so.”

“Er, are you… jealous?” Merlin asks hesitantly. “You like her, right?”

“What?” Arthur blinks at him for a moment before the question really sinks in. Then he chuckles. “No. I mean, she’s gorgeous and kind, and I can certainly understand why nearly anyone _would_ be interested in her, but… No. I just think we should make sure he’s good enough for her.”

Merlin laughs. “I guess you’re right. I get the feeling that he is, though. I think he’ll be good to her,” he says, turning to watch them with a soft smile. They’re walking back to the table now, and they sit down before Arthur can reply.

“So,” Gwen starts, sitting up straight. Merlin immediately recognizes it as her ‘no arguments’ voice and wonders for a moment if they’ve done something wrong. “I think we should all go somewhere soon.”

“Um, sure, but… Where did this come from?” Arthur asks, surprised.

“I’m just tired of only seeing my friends at my job, and only during short breaks. We should hang out somewhere else. Lance and I both have this weekend off, but we can figure out another time if either of you are busy.”

Merlin glances to Arthur, who shakes his head. “I think this weekend’s fine,” Merlin says with a shrug.

“Great! We can go to a water park!” Gwen says with a grin.

“Isn’t it… a bit cold for that?”

“I didn’t peg you for a chicken, Merlin,” Lance says. Merlin stares at him in surprise for a moment while Arthur guffaws.

“I—It’s just—” Usually Arthur is the one to taunt him, and Lancelot doing it catches him so off-guard that he can’t think of a proper retort.

“Oh believe me, he is,” Arthur cuts in, clapping Merlin on the shoulder, and the world rights itself a bit.

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, let’s go to the water park. But don’t come crying to me when you turn blue,” Merlin says, making the others laugh.

Gwen checks her phone and swears quietly. “I have to get back to work. Here, why don’t you both give me your numbers, and I’ll text you later so we can make plans,” she says, passing it to Merlin.

“Sure,” he agrees, adding their numbers to her contacts. Arthur holds out a hand for it, raising his eyebrow when Merlin gives it back to Gwen instead. Slightly embarrassed, he explains, “I, um, already got yours.” Arthur’s eyes widen in surprise but he says nothing.

“Thank you, Merlin,” Gwen says. She kisses Lance and then stands, swinging her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll see you all this weekend, then. I’m so excited!”

The others follow her lead and stand up, heading for the door. “Oh, Merlin!” Gwen calls. “Can I talk to you for a second before you go?”

The men share a confused look, but Arthur and Lance continue on without complaint. “What’s up?” Merlin asks as he approaches the table again.

“I didn’t want to say anything while Arthur was here, but… This is your chance! It’ll be like a double date; won’t that be fun?”

Merlin’s brows furrow. “Gwen, I already told you. We aren’t—”

“I know, I know!” she says, waving her hands as though it doesn’t matter. “I’m having kind of a hard time believing you, though. I’m not blind, Merlin; anyone with eyes can see the way you two look at each other. Even if you’re not together yet, you’re obviously head over heels for him.”

Merlin swallows, a hundred different lies and denials running through his head. Instead, he whispers, “Is it really that obvious?”

“Yes,” Gwen answers. Then she barrels on, uncaring of the mental distress that she’s caused with a single word. “Please take this chance, alright?”

“I…” He trails off, unable to think of any response, and Gwen’s face softens.

She places a hand to his face with a small, almost sad smile. “I just want to see you happy.”

Something in Merlin cracks, and he pulls her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Gwen. I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers fiercely.

Gwen giggles but returns the hug. “You just saw me a few days ago, silly.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what—?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright...” she agrees warily. She squeezes him once more before gently pushing him away. “I really have to get back to work now. Just keep what I said in mind, okay?”

“I will,” he promises. His chest feels tight, but he forces a grin back onto his face. “We’ll see you in a few days.”

Gwen smiles and nods before rushing back to the employees-only room. She waves to him from the doorway, then disappears. Merlin takes a deep breath and heads out to meet Arthur. Lance is already gone.

“What was that all about?” Arthur asks as they start the walk back to his dorm.

“Nothing important.”

“I feel like Gwen’s got some kind of secret that everyone except for me is in on.”

“Oh, don’t sulk,” Merlin says with a chuckle.

“I’m not sulking,” Arthur objects. He smacks his arm lightly, but it only makes Merlin laugh more.

“You _are_. Don’t bother trying to deny it.” Merlin jogs a few feet ahead and turns to face his friend. He walks backwards, dancing just out of Arthur’s reach as he swipes at him again.

“Then why don’t you just tell me what she said?”

“Not happening.”

“You’re infuriating, Merlin, do you know that?” Arthur huffs.

“I’m sure you’ve told me at some point,” he replies with a grin.

Arthur’s eyes narrow. “The strangest things seem to make you happy sometimes. I’m starting to think you might actually be a masochist or something.”

Merlin snorts with a shake of his head. “Not quite.” He faces forward again and whispers to himself, “Never change, Arthur. Never change.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: Sorry guys, but it looks like the next update will be late too. To be totally honest, I started writing the wrong chapter until I went back and reread this one. I completely forgot that they were supposed to go to the water park. The good news is that a decent portion of chapter 7 has already been written now, so that update should be quicker after the next one is out. Sorry again!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am really sorry that this chapter was almost a week late. I added a note to the end of the last chapter, but for those who didn't see it: Basically, I was a massive idiot and forgot all about the water park chapter. So I was halfway through what is actually going to be the _next_ chapter before I reread and realized my mistake. The good news is, that means chapter 7 will come faster than usual. Also, this chapter is the longest one so far. I'm sorry about how sporadic my update schedule has been, guys. I'm doing the best I can but there has been a lot of stuff getting in the way.
> 
> Anyways, moving on from that... The titular song finally makes an appearance! Along with another that I couldn't resist referencing. This was a strangely difficult chapter to write, and I kind of feel like I butchered everyone, particularly Gwen, but it was a nice challenge anyways. I hope you all enjoy it, though!

When Gwen pulls up in front of his house on Saturday morning after declaring that she’ll pick everyone up, Merlin isn’t expecting the tiny bug. He eyes it dubiously, but she just grins and gestures for him to hurry up and get in. Since he’s the last one, he crawls in behind Lance, who pulls his seat so far forward it has to be uncomfortable.

“You can slide back a bit, Lance,” Merlin insists. “I won’t die from cramped leg space.” Lance looks ready to object, but when the car starts moving and his legs hit the dash, he grimaces and follows Merlin’s advice.

“Hi,” Merlin finally says after a minute, glancing at each of the car’s occupants in turn. He tucks the bag with his trunks and towel into the small space between himself and Arthur. Arthur glances at it and then flashes Merlin a small smile and wave in response to his greeting.

“Hello,” Gwen says, chuckling. “How’re you doing, Merlin?”

“Tired,” he answers honestly, “but excited, I guess. Even if we _are_ all about to freeze to death.”

“Stop being such a _girl_ , Merlin,” Arthur says, rolling his eyes. Gwen shoots him a look in the rearview mirror and he blanches. “Sorry,” he mutters, and she smiles mercifully.

“You’re forgiven—this time,” she says imperiously. A memory flashes in Merlin’s mind, overlaying the young woman currently before him. It is Queen Guinevere in an intricate gown, with her head held high and a circlet atop it. He smiles and resists the conditioned urge to bow before his queen.

His expression must give something away, because Arthur’s watching him with a questioning look again, one eyebrow raised almost suspiciously. Merlin just smiles and shakes his head, a silent promise to explain later. He hopes Arthur will forget before that time comes.

“So…” Merlin casts around for something to say, anything that might distract Arthur for even a moment. “Why is it so quiet in here? Don’t we have any music?”

Gwen gestures first to Lance, and then to Merlin, and he dutifully passes a cord back. “Have at it.”

“O-oh, um, I didn’t mean _me_ …” Merlin stumbles over his words for a few moments before quietly admitting, “I don’t have an iPod.” It’s one thing that he _didn’t_ think to get while preparing this carefully crafted life.

“What about your phone?” Lance asks, leaning around the seat to look at him.

Merlin shrugs. “Don’t get enough data for music and videos.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and holds out a hand. “Pass it over, then.”

Merlin glances down, almost surprised to see that he’s still holding the cord, and hands it over quickly. “Be my guest.”

Lance faces forward again while Arthur plugs in his phone and taps away at it. A few seconds later, a song with a quick tempo starts up. Eventually there’s a bagpipe solo, which makes Merlin laugh. He can’t restrain the confused smile that creeps onto his face, though; the song is strangely familiar, and it makes him feel a little bit lighter.

Arthur sets his phone down on the seat in favor of miming along to the song, making Merlin giggle helplessly. Arthur just grins back at him and gets even more dramatic with his gestures and expressions. When the song finally ends and the next one begins, though, he gets a slightly panicked look and scrambles to change it. He doesn’t succeed until after they’ve heard the first few lines, though.

“Heart beats fast… Colors and promises…”

Gwen gives a short burst of laughter. “You have ‘A Thousand Years’?” she asks, surprised.

“Shut up,” Arthur says defensively. “It’s Pandora. I didn’t pick it.”

“If it’s Pandora, then that just means that you have similar songs,” she concludes with a self-satisfied smile. Arthur grumbles something unintelligible, crossing his arms defiantly. A heavy metal song starts, and Gwen rolls her eyes before returning her attention to the road.

Merlin barely registers this exchange at all, too busy trying to remember how to breathe. Of course he’d recognized the song immediately; everyone on the face of the Earth must have heard it by now. In fact, there’d been a stretch of time when he’d listened to it several times a day, addicted to the sadness that came with it and the way his heart clenched and the nearly-buried memories it brought up. It had taken a long time to convince himself that it was unhealthy.

He’d deleted the song from his laptop then and resisted the urge to ever listen to it again. Hearing it now after several years brought the pain and memories rushing back, though. Even just a few words was enough to make him tear up. Merlin turns to the window so that nobody will notice, and brings a hand up to wipe his eyes as subtly as possible. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that there’s one major difference between then and now—he has Arthur back, as well as Gwen and Lancelot. They’ll all be okay. He’ll make sure of it.

A hand on his knee startles Merlin out of his thoughts, and he glances over to find Arthur watching him with a concerned expression. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head in a silent question, clearly trying not to attract Gwen or Lance’s attention. Merlin gives him a small smile and nod in response, and the weight on his knee disappears. A moment later, though, Arthur’s hand is on his face instead. His eyes narrow and he frowns slightly as he brushes his thumb across Merlin’s cheek, wiping away a lone tear.

Despite Merlin’s best efforts, he leans into the touch. His eyes drift closed of their own accord, and he opens them again after a long moment, blinking slowly. Arthur’s eyes roam over his face and his hand lingers for much longer than necessary. He eventually pulls it away, though, gracing Merlin with a tiny, confused smile before turning away.

Merlin swallows and turns back to the window, too many thoughts running through his head to focus on any conversation for the rest of the drive.

* * *

By the time they get to the water park, Merlin’s managed to get his scattered thoughts mostly under control and is back in the right mindset to enjoy the day. He peers through the gates while they wait in line, though he can’t see much of anything because of a couple of buildings just on the other side of the fence.

Gwen is clearly excited too, bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently. Lance rests a hand on her lower back, rubbing gently until she settles down a bit. She beams up at him and stretches up to place a quick kiss on his lips before they take another few steps forward.

Arthur, on the other hand, seems distracted, gazing into the middle distance and fidgeting with his jacket’s zipper. “It’s nothing,” he says with a small smile when Merlin tries to question him about it, but it doesn’t sound convincing. For a moment, Merlin wonders if maybe Arthur’s feeling as weird about ‘them’ as he’s been lately, but he pushes the thought away because it can only lead to more confusion and disappointment.

“Hey, we’re here to have a good time,” Merlin says. “Let’s just forget about everything else for today.” He bumps into Arthur’s side in an attempt to lighten the mood and laughs when he retaliates, sending Merlin into the chain-link fence and making it rattle obnoxiously.

“Sorry, you alright?” Arthur asks, placing a steadying hand on Merlin’s shoulder. His expression suggests that he’s more amused than genuinely concerned, though.

“I’m fine,” Merlin insists, still chuckling. “I knew you’d get back at me. I just didn’t expect it to send me flying.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he replies, actually looking a bit worried now. “Was it really that hard?”

“No, not really.” Arthur still doesn’t look like he entirely believe it, so Merlin rolls his eyes and repeats emphatically, “I’m _fine_. Now move your arse before we lose our place in the line.”

That gets Arthur to shut up, and he rushes forward to where Gwen and Lance are waving them on. Merlin follows, shaking his head in quiet exasperation. They reach the booth a minute later and each of them pays for their own admission to avoid the awkward endless cycle of ‘I’ll pay for you,’ ‘No you won’t,’ on and on and on.

“Alright, I’ll meet you all back out here in a few minutes,” Gwen says when they get to the locker rooms near the entrance.

Merlin waves and heads into the men’s locker room. Arthur and Lance talk as they change, but he just stares straight ahead and tries to push down any self-consciousness. He rushes out before the other two and meets Gwen. When he wraps an arm around her shoulders, she leans against him, rubbing at her own arms in an attempt to keep warm. “I’m glad you came today, Merlin,” she says quietly.

Merlin smiles. “Me too.” After a moment’s thought, he asks, “Did you know that you’re my best friend, after Arthur?”

Gwen giggles, linking her hand with his on her shoulder. “And you’re mine, after Lance,” she promises.

“Merlin, I didn’t think you had it in you!” Lance’s voice just behind him startles Merlin and he jumps, making Arthur chuckle. “Do I have to worry about you trying to steal Gwen away from me?” he asks, looking pointedly at their hands. He’s trying to sound angry, but the laughter in his voice gives him away immediately.

“Oh yes,” Merlin says very seriously. “You definitely need to worry about your girlfriend being stolen by the gay boy who _just_ told her that she’s his best friend.”

All three of them stare at him in surprise, and he flushes as he realizes that he’s never actually _told_ them outright that he’s gay (well, mostly. He had truly loved Freya and always will, but she has been gone for a very long time now). Luckily, Lance breaks the awkward silence after a few seconds. “Don’t worry, mate, I was just teasing.”

“Yeah, I caught onto that,” Merlin says with a laugh, dropping Gwen’s hand and ducking away when Lance tries to ruffle his hair.

“Anyways, where should we go first?” Lance asks, leading them a few feet away so they aren’t blocking the locker room entrances.

They all take a look around, but only a few of the waterslides are visible from their spot. “Might as well start on this end and work our way to the other side,” Arthur suggests, and everyone nods and starts walking.

“Ooh, can we start with that one?” Gwen asks, pointing out a long and particularly twisty slide.

“That’s fine with me, but we’ll get dizzy,” Lance warns, voice tinged with amusement as she tugs on his arm like an overexcited child.

“Exactly!” she agrees, beaming. Turning to Arthur and Merlin, Gwen asks, “Is that alright with you two?”

“Of course,” Arthur says with a gentle smile. “Whatever the lady wants.” Merlin snorts at that but nods his agreement.

“Great!” Gwen says, leading the way with a bounce in her step.

Her enthusiasm is contagious, and Merlin finds himself getting more excited the closer they get to the slide. The line is packed, but they all fill the time chatting about anything and everything. As they slowly make their way up the wooden stairs, Merlin catches himself sneaking glances at Arthur’s shirtless chest and back, though he never lets his gaze linger. Although the current Arthur might not go through training with the knights every morning or fight magical beasts on a regular basis, he still worked out each day and it showed.

A few times, Merlin catches Arthur checking _him_ out. It’s a bit difficult to believe, but paired with the fact that he doesn’t even attempt to hide it and the strange way he’s been acting lately, it’s nearly undeniable that his friend’s been _flirting_ with him. Merlin isn’t quite sure what to do with that information, unsure if Arthur’s serious or not and unused to his feelings being returned. So for the time being, he doesn’t acknowledge it beyond flirting back a bit.

“You alright?” Lance asks worriedly.

Merlin blinks at him, snapping out of his daze, and Arthur smirks. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a little… out of it,” he answers, brows furrowing.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit tired still,” Merlin lies. Lance doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he lets it go without questioning him any further.

They take another few steps up the stairs, and then Gwen says quietly, “Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Merlin asks, leaning around her to see what she’s looking at.

Gwen points to the stack of rafts. “It looks like this one’s only doubles. Sorry, guys.”

She _does_ sound apologetic, but the way her lips try to twitch into a sneaky smile makes him wonder if maybe she’d actually known all along. It doesn’t really matter, though. Having to ride in pairs is nothing to pitch a fit about. “No big deal,” Merlin says, shrugging. She gives him a brilliant grin, and he gently pushes her forward with a hand between her shoulder blades. “Now move up; it’s almost your turn.”

Gwen moves forward obediently and grabs one of the inner tubes. Lance takes it from her with a soft smile and carries it until they reach the front of the line, like the gentleman he’s always been. His girlfriend rolls her eyes at him but doesn’t object. Merlin grabs the next one and gives Arthur a what-can-you-do kind of shrug.

Soon their friends are dropping onto the slide and disappearing around a bend, Gwen’s exhilarated shriek echoing behind them. The lifeguard waits for a minute, peering down to the pool at the bottom, then waves Merlin and Arthur forward. They climb onto the inflatable and push off when he tells them to. They both shout excitedly as they gain speed, Merlin gasping when they go around a turn and it flips them backwards. He collapses into giggles as they go down a small drop head-first, and soon enough, Arthur’s laughing helplessly too.

A sudden bump sends Merlin flying off the raft a bit, and he lands on the edge of it when he comes back down. “Fuck,” he says, still breathless with laughter but also worried that he’ll slide off the inflatable and it will run over him. It’s happened before, and it’s not an experience he’d particularly care to repeat. Arthur catches his upper arm, though, and drags him back into the raft. He doesn’t let go until they reach the bottom and both go flying into the pool. Merlin doesn’t comment on it, afraid to ruin whatever strange mood Arthur’s in today.

After taking them through three more slides, all of which mysteriously require doubles, Gwen drags Lance off under the guise of being so excited that she forgets about them. Merlin sighs. “She’s not as subtle as she thinks she is, huh?”

“No, she’s really not,” Arthur agrees, his tone stuck somewhere between amused and annoyed.

“I’m sorry. This really isn’t how I expected this day to go,” Merlin says honestly. Although Gwen _had_ called it a double date, he’d expected it to be more like a bunch of friends hanging out. He’ll have to talk to her about that later and make sure that they _actually_ do something all together soon.

“It’s alright. No reason to waste the day, is it?” Arthur asks, shooting Merlin a smile as they start walking again.

“I guess not,” Merlin agrees. “Where to next, then?”

Arthur hums in thought and eventually points to an impossibly tall and steep black slide. “How about that one?”

“You would pick that one, wouldn’t you?” Merlin replies miserably. He takes a deep breath, gathering his nerves for the inevitable, and lets it out on a sigh. “Alright, let’s go then.”

“Really?” Arthur asks. He sounds surprised and just the tiniest bit impressed.

Merlin smirks. “Yep. What are you waiting for? Are _you_ gonna chicken out?”

“Of course not,” he replies, lip pursed. They make their way to the slide, which has a shorter line than any of the others so far. “Have you ever been on this one before?”

“Nope.” Merlin doesn’t bother to say that he’s actually never been to this park before.

“Alright then… Make sure that you stay lying flat on your back, with your arms crossed over your chest,” Arthur says, demonstrating. “And that you don’t have anything that could get caught on the rivets.”

Merlin gives him a blank look, gesturing up and down his own body. “What could possibly get caught on the rivets?” he asks rhetorically. “All I have is my trunks, and I’m sorry, but I’m _not_ taking those off.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant and you know it!” Arthur stammers, his cheeks turning the slightest bit pink. “I was just telling you the tips that they normally give everyone!”

“Alright, alright,” Merlin says in a pacifying tone, though he can’t hold back a quiet snicker.

“If you don’t shut up, I will push you down the slide head-first,” Arthur warns.

Merlin glances up the tall ladder and can just barely see a lifeguard on the platform at the top. “I’m pretty sure she’d disapprove of that,” he says, pointing.

Arthur looks up and purses his lips in annoyance. “Fine, but the point still stands that I _will_ find a way to torment you.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that. You always do,” he replies with a smirk.

“Just get moving,” Arthur sighs, gesturing to the ladder.

“You’re making me go first, then? What happened to all of your endless courage?” Merlin taunts.

“ _Move_ ,” Arthur repeats, teeth gritted.

Merlin moves.

* * *

After about an hour, they bump into Lance and Gwen again, and the four of them decide to get lunch. Arthur stays silent about the matchmaking attempts, but Merlin pulls Gwen off to the side after they find a table and set their food down.

“So? Any progress?” Gwen asks, grinning at him.

Merlin wants to be angry, and he’d fully intended to have a very stern talk with her, but the fire leaves him when he sees how earnest she is. When it really comes down to it, he knows she’s just trying to help. “Look,” he sighs, “Can you maybe just… tone it down a little?”

Her face falls. “Oh. I’m sorry, Merlin… I just thought…”

“I know,” he says, trying for a smile. “Thank you. But Arthur caught on pretty quickly anyways, and… honestly, I only agreed to come today because I thought that I’d actually get to spend time with all my friends.”

“Oh. Oh, Merlin, I’m sorry,” Gwen repeats, looking distressed.

“It’s alright,” Merlin replies, pulling her in for a quick hug.

“Well, it’s still pretty early,” she says hopefully. “There’s still plenty of time for the four of us to have some fun together!”

“That sounds nice. For now, let’s just go eat, okay? I’m starving.” He forces his voice back to its normal happy tone for the last sentence and gently urges Gwen back toward the table with a hand on her back.

“Okay, but… Just tell me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Did you and Arthur at least have a decent time together?” she asks worriedly.

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” Merlin says, and he doesn’t even have to lie.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Gwen breathes, and Merlin laughs.

“It’s fine. I promise. Let’s just go enjoy the rest of the day, alright?”

“Right,” Gwen agrees. She shoots him a quick smile, looping her arm through his as they rejoin the others.

“Trying to steal my girlfriend again, I see,” Lance teases when they reach the table.

Merlin pats Gwen’s hand and they separate, Gwen sitting next to her boyfriend and Merlin taking the seat across from her, next to Arthur. “Yep, you know me,” he replies, shrugging. “I just can’t help it.”

“Damn,” Lance says. He shakes his head and tries to frown through the laughter. “I don’t have a chance, do I?”

“None at all,” Gwen agrees cheerfully.

* * *

“God, that was great,” Arthur sighs as they pile into the car at the end of the day.

“Yeah,” Merlin agrees, collapsing into his seat. He flops sideways to lay across the middle with his head on Arthur’s lap. Arthur raises a weary eyebrow at him but says nothing, only pushing him far enough out of the way to buckle his belt.

“I’m glad everyone had fun,” Lance pipes up, glancing back to grin at them.

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I could have gone without the splash war at the end, though,” Gwen says. She glares into the rearview mirror, but she can’t keep up the act for long after the boys burst into laughter. She huffs out a sigh but smiles helplessly. “Everyone buckled?” she asks, starting the car.

Merlin grumbles incoherently and stays where he is just a bit longer, enjoying the feeling of Arthur playing with his hair. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it. After a few seconds, Merlin sits up and puts his belt on. “Ready,” he mumbles, and Gwen backs out of the parking spot and starts driving.

Merlin gazes out the window, focused half on the world outside and half on Arthur’s reflection. He settles in for the long drive, exhausted in the fantastic way that only a day of fun and exercise can cause, and thanks whatever deities may exist that he is lucky enough to have these three incredible people back in his life. No matter how much time he spends with them or how much he thinks about the fact that they’re all together again, it’s still difficult to believe.

They may be hard to deal with sometimes, as all human relationships are, but Merlin wouldn’t trade them for all the world.


	7. Chapter 7

Eventually, Arthur finally brings up the topic that Merlin has been dreading. He’s done his best to avoid it, but it was inevitable that Arthur would catch on sooner or later.

“Why do we always end up at my place?” Arthur suddenly asks one day while they’re studying. He sighs, resting his head in his hand, and watches Merlin expectantly.

It takes a moment for him to really register the question, distracted as he is with the way that Arthur’s cheek squishes unflatteringly against his hand. Merlin’s torn between cooing at him and teasing him; his king looks decidedly un-regal for once. In the end he does neither, shaking himself out of it and focusing on Arthur’s words instead. “Um, well…” He frantically searches his mind for a good excuse, but thankfully, Arthur interrupts him.

“You said you have an actual house, right? There _has_ to be more room than there is here.” He gestures around the dorm, and Merlin has to concede the point. They’ve been using the common room most of the time, because it’s a tight squeeze on days like today, when they actually stay in Arthur’s room. The desks, beds, wardrobes, and mini-fridge (on top of which they’ve stacked a TV) take up most of the free space, and he can only imagine how  claustrophobic it would feel if Arthur didn’t seem to be kicking out his roommate every time he came over.

“Well…” Merlin draws the word out, stalling. Eventually he says, “Not really. It’s really messy and cluttered, so there isn’t much space.” He does his best to look embarrassed.

Arthur does not look impressed. “There is such a thing as _cleaning_ , Merlin,” he says in his best ‘you’re an idiot’ voice.

“Right, of course. Uh, fine. We can go to my house next time, then. Just… give me a few days,” Merlin says, gnawing on his lip.

And that’s how he ends up spending the next three days gathering all of his magical instruments, books, and any herbs that don’t seem like they’d be used for cooking. He spreads them carefully all over the shelves, floor, and single desk in his small library, and then locks the door with both key and magic, just in case.

When he’s done, Merlin surveys the house to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. It feels nearly empty now, and not nearly as much like home. All that’s left is the furniture and dishes, things for school, and a few of the gifts people had given him throughout his travels. It hurts to hide away such a large part of his life, and he wonders for a moment if he’s making a mistake.

_Maybe I should tell him the truth._

He imagines the conversation: Arthur’s anger and his own pain, the same scene all over again. The first time hurt badly enough. Never telling him isn’t an option either, though.

Merlin sighs and pushes himself off the wall that he hadn’t even realized he’d slumped against. That decision is better left for another day, after he has time to build up to it and gather his courage.

* * *

“Well, here it is,” Merlin says with the tone of one revealing something completely anticlimactic. He lets Arthur in and turns on the lamp in the corner, spreading his arms wide. “I hope you’re not _too_ disappointed,” he says, half-joking, but Arthur is just staring around the place, slack-jawed and silent.

“Um, w-well,” Merlin mutters, trying to interpret the meaning of that look, “I’ll just go put on some tea, then.”

Arthur snickers, pulled out of his daze. “Why don’t you just show me where everything is, and _I’ll_ make it?” he suggests. “I’m a bit worried you’ll somehow end up with second degree burns, with how clumsy you are.”

“I can make tea!” Merlin says, slightly offended. He’s not entirely sure it’s true, though; having someone else here is quickly making him realize just how much he relies on his magic these days. It’s been years since he’s done much of anything by hand.

Despite Merlin’s objections, Arthur follows him into the kitchen. Rather than trying to help, however, he just watches Merlin and glances around the room curiously. “How did you manage to afford this place, anyway?” he asks after a minute. “When you said you bought a house, I assumed it would be the tiniest one bedroom I’ve ever seen. I mean, this place doesn’t seem huge, but it’s… nice.”

Merlin shrugs uncomfortably, staring at the kettle as though it will boil just from him watching it hard enough. Usually, it would. “I like it enough. And I did a lot of… odd jobs, when I was… younger. I saved up a lot.”

Arthur’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t prod further. He might not know the reasons, but he understands by now that Merlin doesn’t talk about his past much, at least not in detail. “Right…” he draws the word out skeptically, hoping that maybe it will make Merlin offer up some more information of his own volition.

No such luck. The kettle starts whistling, and Merlin grins and says needlessly, “It’s ready!” He turns away to fetch tea leaves and a couple of mugs from the cupboard, and Arthur can see the tension in his hunched shoulders. As they prepare their drinks, Merlin stares into his silently for a long minute before aiming a mischievous smile at Arthur. “What do you say we skip the studying for once and actually do something fun?”

Arthur opens his mouth to say something, then snaps it shut. He shakes his head with a fond grin and asks, “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Merlin shrugs. “I don’t know. We could just watch a movie or something.”

“Sure, that sounds good.”

“Great! Go pick something off the shelf in the living room. Or if you don’t see anything you like, we can find something on Netflix.”

Arthur nods and wanders off. Once he’s out of sight, Merlin realizes just how nervous he actually is about Arthur being in his house. He takes a moment to thank his past self for double-locking the library door, then sets about making popcorn.

Arthur ends up picking an action flick that Merlin pretends to hate but has actually watched five times. It doesn’t matter much in the end, because they only spend half the time actually watching the movie. The other half is spent throwing popcorn at each other’s heads whenever the other isn’t looking and talking over the painfully cliché dialogue between the hero and his predictably beautiful but useless love interest.

As the credits roll, Merlin sighs happily. “Want a drink?” he asks. The question is out of his mouth before he even realizes what he’s going to say, desperate to keep Arthur around for a while longer and not let this simple but happy day end. “I mean, as in, alcohol,” he stutters in an attempt at clarification.

Arthur smirks. “Sure. What’ve you got?”

“Um. Let me check. It’s been a while.” Arthur follows him into the kitchen again, and Merlin rummages through the cupboard over the stove. After a few seconds, he holds up the lone bottle of vodka with an apologetic smile. “Looks like it’s just Svedka.”

“Sounds good,” Arthur says.

Merlin grins and passes the bottle to him along with a shot glass, shooing him back into the living room. Then he grabs a couple of normal glasses and some juice and follows, taking a seat on the floor.

“Wanna watch another movie?” Arthur asks as they mix their drinks.

“Sure, which one?”

He hums in thought, but after a moment he just says, “You choose this time.”

Merlin hovers over his collection and eventually puts on one that he knows Arthur will like. It includes the hero slaying a dragon, which makes him cringe a bit, but other than that it’s a good film.

They watch silently for a while, until Arthur finishes his glass. He sets it down a bit harshly, making Merlin silently grateful that the floor is carpeted. “We should make this into a game,” he declares.

“You mean, a drinking game with the movie?” Merlin asks, guzzling the last of his drink so they’ll be on even footing. “Alright.”

“A drinking game, yeah, but…” Arthur makes a face. “How about truth or dare?”

Merlin chuckles. “Isn’t that a bit boring with just two people?” He’s taking a shot in the dark, since he’s never actually played it before, but he’s seen enough movies to know that it’s usually done at large parties.

“Only if you make up boring dares and questions,” Arthur retorts.

“Alright then,” Merlin says, rolling his eyes. It’s obvious that Arthur is baiting him, but he has no problem with accepting the challenge. “And where exactly does the alcohol come in?”

“If you chicken out, then you have to take a shot instead.”

“That’s a horrible penalty,” Merlin replies with a laugh. “I think I’d rather just do the shots anyways!” Arthur shoots him a withering look, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine, I’ll go along with it! You’re really set on this, aren’t you? I can’t help but feel like you’ve got some kind of evil plot brewing in that head of yours.”

Arthur just smirks. “Well, you’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?”

* * *

Merlin isn’t terribly surprised when he winds up four shots in for refusing to do some things that were too disgusting, degrading, or possibly illegal for his tastes. He hasn’t turned down every dare, though; he’d nearly vomited after eating a vile concoction made up of various ingredients and condiments from his fridge, his shirt has been lost (maybe permanently, after the vandalization that Arthur put it through), and he’d asked his elderly neighbor on a date. She had, luckily, rejected him after noticing his naked chest, droopy eyes, and general obvious drunkenness.

It’s a bit satisfying to realize that Arthur isn’t in a much better state himself. He had dropped ice cubes down his pants, declared his love to the first person to pass by in the street, and is currently wearing highlighter marks as makeup. He’d teased Merlin for giving immature dares, but Merlin simply raised an eyebrow and pointed out the hypocrisy.

“Alright, truth or dare?” Arthur asks from where he’s hanging over the edge of the couch. He slides the shot glass over to Merlin with a taunting look, like he knows he’ll chicken out of this one.

“Truth,” Merlin groans, finally giving in. He hates that he’s the first to admit defeat, but he’s reaching his limits. Not to mention he’s feeling drowsy and lazy enough that the thought of getting up again is almost torturous.

Arthur’s eyes light up, and Merlin immediately realizes his mistake. _This_ is what he’s actually been planning for all along. But Arthur surprises him by saying, “Okay, we’ll start with an easy one, then. I accidentally went for the wrong door when I was trying to find the toilet. So… What’s behind that locked door, Merlin?” He smirks, but Merlin just shrugs as nonchalantly as possible.

“I’ve got a little library,” he answers honestly.

“And you keep it locked,” Arthur replies flatly.

“Yep.”

“What are you keeping in there? Your porn collection?” he asks, laughing.

Merlin’s tempted to say yes just to stop Arthur’s questioning, but that might lead to some unwanted consequences, too. Instead, he waggles his finger in his friend’s face. “Uh-uh-uh! Can’t give ‘way _all_ my secrets at once, now can I?”

“Like _you_ could keep a secret, Merlin,” Arthur says with a roll of his eyes, and it sounds so familiar that Merlin suddenly wants to blurt out all of the other secrets he’s keeping from Arthur.

_What about the fact that I’m a sorcerer? Or that I’m in love with you? Or that you were the king of Camelot in your past life?_ Merlin wants to ask. He’s drunk enough that his lips are loose and it sounds like a good idea to let it all slip. But he’s sober enough to know that that’s just the vodka talking. Gazing at Arthur’s face, flushed from the alcohol, Merlin says instead, “I kinda wanna kiss you right now.”

Okay, maybe he’s not quite as sober as he thought.

Arthur snorts. “I _always_ want to kiss _you_ ,” he says. Merlin’s heart pounds, and he has to remind himself that people say stupid things that they don’t always mean under the influence of alcohol.

Arthur blinks in surprise, like he hadn’t expected the words to leave his mouth. Between his expression and Merlin’s own confession, he almost wonders if there was something more than just the vodka in the bottle. He peers at it suspiciously, but no—he’d opened and poured it himself, and there was no way that anyone had gotten into his home uninvited to tamper with it, magically or otherwise.

“Um… I think maybe we’ve had enough,” Merlin says, and Arthur doesn’t fight when he grabs what’s left of the bottle and returns it to the cupboard. “I’m getting pretty tired anyways.”

“Right. I should…” Arthur trails off, making a grab for his shoes, but Merlin stops him with a hand on his arm.

“It’s…” Merlin squints at the clock. “1am, you’re drunk, and I’m not going to let you stumble home alone,” he says firmly. “You can stay here for the night.”

For a moment, Arthur looks like he’s going to argue, but eventually he retakes his seat on the couch. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

“I am.” Merlin imagines himself sleeping comfortably in bed while his king curls up on the couch, and he quickly decides that it’s too strange to imagine. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep out here.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed,” Arthur scoffs.

“You’re the guest,” Merlin argues. “And you’re not kicking me out. I’m offering it.”

When the other man still doesn’t move, Merlin grabs his hands and forcibly pulls him up. Arthur looks surprised at the fact that he managed to make him budge. If there’s a bit of magic behind it, he doesn’t need to know that.

Merlin drags him to the bathroom to clean the highlighter off his face, then races back to the couch before Arthur can try to claim it again. He lays down and closes his eyes, smiling to himself when he hears an eventual sigh and, a few seconds later, the bedroom door clicking closed.

* * *

In the morning, Arthur doesn’t mention their drunken confessions. Merlin simply follows his lead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it took eight chapters, but we're finally here. No, don't worry, this isn't the ending. There's still a long, long way to go before that. You'll understand soon enough what I mean by 'here' haha. Anyways, I am really excited about this section. Some of my first (and favorite) scenes that I wrote for this fic are in the next few chapters, and I hope you guys have as much fun reading them as I did writing them!

“Lunch is ready!” Merlin calls, scowling at the pan. Cooking the ‘normal’ way is much more of a pain than he remembers. Maybe that’s just because he barely remembers how to do it, though.

“That smells incredible,” Arthur says as he enters the kitchen. He leans over Merlin’s shoulder to take a peek at the stir-fry, and Merlin freezes.

“Er, here, I’ll just…” Merlin mutters after a moment, dropping the pan onto an unused burner to cool. He spins away from Arthur to open a cupboard and hands his friend a plate before grabbing one for himself.

They dish up and sit across from each other at Merlin’s small dining room table, eating in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, Arthur asks, “So… Are you ready to tell me about whatever Gwen’s been hiding from me yet?”

“Nope,” Merlin answers with a smirk. “Never.”

“Oh. Alright.” His tone has shifted from mischievous to resigned, and he’s staring determinedly at his food as he pushes it around the plate with his fork.

Merlin frowns. “Alright, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“ _Arthur_. What is it?”

“I’m just… sick of being out of the loop,” Arthur admits, looking up and meeting his eyes. “Tired of people lying to me.”

Merlin sighs and takes a bite to bide his time. “Look, it was nothing, okay?” he says after a minute. “It was just about her stupid matchmaking attempts. I’m sure that’s what she was trying to get Lance in on, too.”

“Oh,” Arthur says, blushing slightly. His gaze drops down to his plate again. “Was that really it?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a long pause before Arthur says quietly, “Alright then… No harm done, I suppose.”

 _No harm done by Gwen, maybe, but I can’t say the same for this conversation_ , Merlin thinks. He wonders what kind of betrayals Arthur has gone through in this lifetime to make him so sensitive to secrets and lies, and suddenly feels horrible about his own.

Merlin resolves then and there that he won’t make the same mistake twice. He won’t wait until it’s too late to tell Arthur. He won’t keep this secret from him and risk losing his trust again. Merlin takes a deep breath and begins nervously, “Hey, Arthur? I know this’ll sound weird, but… Do you believe in magic?”

Arthur reflexively scowls, but he seems a bit surprised by his own reaction. “I don’t _think_ so. I mean, there’s not really any _proof_ of it, _is_ there, Merlin?”

He gnaws on his lip for a moment, then charges head-first into the disaster that’s surely awaiting him. _Why even bother if I don’t go all in?_ he asks himself. The words rush out of his mouth in a barely intelligible jumble. “I can _show_  you proof!”

Arthur stares at him for a long moment, blinking slowly. “…What?” he eventually asks disbelievingly.

Merlin raises his hand toward the first thing that catches his eye (a dirty mug on the counter) with the intention of making it float over to them. Then he pauses, reconsidering. “Arthur,” he says cautiously, “do you trust me?”

“Merlin,” Arthur starts, exasperated, but he stops when he sees the completely serious look on Merlin’s face. “I—yes. Of course I do.”

“Good,” Merlin sighs. He sends a short prayer out that his idea will work and won’t have any horrific side effects. For the past few months, any moment that he hasn’t been either in school or with Arthur has been spent researching and trying to find his own solutions. About a week ago, he’d finally come up with a spell that might work, but it’s not exactly one that can be practiced. Merlin takes one last deep breath to steel himself and reaches toward Arthur, his eyes flashing gold. “ _Edcierr gemyndblíþene fram ærdagas æum!_ ”

“What on—?” Arthur cuts off his own shout, swaying in his seat. He puts a hand to his head, blinking slowly as if in a daze.

“Oh fuck!” Merlin yells, rushing to Arthur’s side. He kneels down in front of his friend, trying to peer into his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Arthur! Are you okay?”

“Holy hell,” Arthur groans, rubbing his temples. Then his eyes widen and snap up to the other man. “ _Holy hell!_ Merlin!”

“Did—” Merlin swallows past the lump in his throat, past the hope he can’t quite restrain, and tries again. “Did it work? Do you… remember?”

Arthur nods dumbly, gasping for air as he tries to take everything in. Laughing slightly, he says, “I think having two sets of memories might be short-circuiting my brain a bit, though.”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Merlin mutters, standing up to pace. “I’m so sorry, Arthur! I didn’t even think about that… I’ll find a way to reverse it,” he promises, already running for his library, even though it’s the last thing he really wants to do.

“Merlin!” Arthur calls, holding a hand up to stop him. “Sit down, you idiot. Just… give me a few minutes.”

“Right,” Merlin says agreeably, rushing back and falling into his chair. He starts fidgeting within moments. “Are you sure?”

“Merlin…” he repeats in a warning tone.

Merlin knows that tone, though he never would have thought he’d be so glad to hear it. Wisely, he shuts his mouth and waits. After what feels like an eternity, Arthur sighs deeply and lifts his head from his hands to stare at Merlin. Merlin gnaws on his bottom lip anxiously.

“I don’t even know what to say,” Arthur eventually admits. “It’s… overwhelming.”

The other man remains silent. Unable to meet Arthur’s eyes any longer, his own drift down to the table in guilt.

“I…” There’s a long pause, and then Arthur sighs again. “Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin’s eyes snap back up to his, surprised and confused. He finds Arthur still staring at him, but with more emotion shining through. “But I…”

“You gave me back what should have been mine all along,” Arthur finishes for him.

“I missed you,” Merlin breathes, unable to restrain it any longer.

“I’ve been right here,” Arthur jokes with a crooked grin.

Merlin quirks a smile but shakes his head. “I waited _so long_ , Arthur… Over a thousand years!” His voice breaks. “And when I finally found you…” He trails off, rolling his eyes to the ceiling to fend off any oncoming tears.

“I had no idea who you were,” Arthur concludes, standing. He pushes his chair out of the way and circles the table to stand at Merlin’s side. He claps a hand to Merlin’s shoulder. After a long moment, he gives him a sad smile and says, “At least you _knew_ what you were missing. I’ve just spent my entire life feeling like something was lost and never being able to figure out what it was.”

Merlin stands, awkwardly bumping his chair out of the way, and throws his arms around Arthur, finally giving up on any pretense of restraint. Arthur hugs him back tightly and pretends not to notice the tears soaking his shirt.

* * *

Eventually, they sit back down to actually eat. Merlin takes the seat closest to Arthur this time, unwilling to separate himself any further than necessary.

“It’s weird to think that electricity wasn’t even discovered, and now…” Arthur gestures around them with his spoon, shaking his head incredulously.

“Imagine living through everything in between the two,” Merlin says with a chuckle.

“I can’t even _begin_ to imagine it.” He pauses, watching Merlin with narrowed eyes for a minute, then shakes his head and refocuses on his lunch.

“What?” Merlin asks worriedly.

“Nothing. I just have _so many_ questions, but I think maybe I should wait to ask them until after I straighten out my own thoughts.”

“Alright,” Merlin agrees easily. “Just know that when you’re ready, I’ll answer anything that I can.”

Arthur nods. After a minute, he speaks up hesitantly, “I do have _one_ question that I think I need to ask right away.”

“What’s that?” Merlin asks, Arthur’s tone already putting him on guard.

“Gaius said… He said that you were the greatest sorcerer to ever live.”

“That’s not a question,” he points out, though he understands what Arthur’s trying to ask.

Arthur sighs. “You’ve somehow lived through all these years, and I’m sure that returning my memories from a past life couldn’t have been an easy spell… I guess I’m just trying to ask if what Gaius said is true.”

Merlin flushes and takes a long drink to buy himself a few seconds. He can feel Arthur’s gaze drilling holes into him. When he can’t avoid answering any longer, Merlin stares into his water and hedges, “Some people have said that.”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur says sternly.

He sighs, setting his glass down and turning to look Arthur in the eyes. “As far as I’m aware, yes,” Merlin says. “I have never met another sorcerer who is more powerful than me, at least not after the years of experience I’ve built up.”

Arthur stares at him for a long moment, wide-eyed. “Right,” he eventually says, nodding like he’d kind of expected it. “That brings up a whole host of new questions, but… Those should definitely wait.”

“Okay. Then eat your lunch already, you dollophead.”

Arthur closes his eyes, exasperated, and huffs out a little laugh at the old made-up insult. He obediently takes a bite, then says, “You know, Merlin… You might be an all-powerful sorcerer, but you’re still a shit cook.”

Merlin grins. “First of all, I seem to remember a few occasions when you actually complimented my cooking. Second, I admit this might not be my best work, but it isn’t _that_ bad. And third, what on Earth do you expect when I can’t even remember the last time I cooked by hand?”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

And if a food fight happens to break out at that, well… Arthur only has himself to blame.

* * *

Arthur doesn’t try to leave that day, and Merlin doesn’t try to make him. In fact, they’re practically attached at the hip, never more than a few feet apart. They talk and joke and tease each other mercilessly, avoiding any potentially touchy topics for the time being, and Merlin can hardly remember the last time he smiled so genuinely.

When night falls, Merlin pulls out an old fighting game and soundly kicks Arthur’s ass a few times, until he really gets the hang of it. It feels stranger to play video games with Arthur now that he is truly _his_ Arthur, with memories of a time long before they existed. He has to keep reminding himself that Arthur of the past and Arthur of the present are one and the same now (and, in many ways, always have been).

When Arthur starts yawning, Merlin sets his controller down on the coffee table. “Right. You’re staying here again tonight, aren’t you?”

Arthur nods. “I’m not taking your bed again, though,” he says, his tone brooking no argument.

“Fine, but you’re taking _a_ bed.”

Arthur’s brows furrow. “What do you mean? If you have more than one, then why didn’t you just say so yesterday?”

“Because I didn’t yesterday,” Merlin says, smiling secretively. He stands and gestures for Arthur to follow him. They walk to the end of the hallway, where the door to his pantry stands. With a wave of his hands and a few whispered words, the space behind the door warps. He opens it and Arthur gasps quietly, following him inside. “And if I did that right, the new room should be completely invisible from the outside,” Merlin says proudly. It’s exhilarating to be able to show off his magic around his king, though a part of him still half expects Arthur to run him through for it.

“This is…” Arthur trails off, sounding awed as he looks around. The room isn’t anything too special, unfurnished aside from a large bed, a bedside table, and a fireplace, but that doesn’t change the fact that Merlin brought something into existence where before, there was nothing. Arthur catches himself, clears his throat, and finishes, “Not too bad, Merlin.”

Merlin rolls his eyes and whispers, “ _Forbearnan!_ ” Arthur jumps as a fire blazes to life in the hearth, and Merlin cackles.

“Shut up!” Arthur points at him warningly. Merlin just smirks and mimes zipping his mouth closed. Arthur’s face softens as he wanders over to the window and stares outside. “You know, it’s kind of funny… My brain keeps warring over which memories are real and which aren’t.”

“They’re _all_ real,” Merlin replies, tilting his head in confusion. He joins Arthur at the window, gazing out and thinking of a very different view than his little patch of grass and fence.

“I know that, it’s just…” He huffs in frustration. “I guess it’s less ‘which are real’ and more ‘which are relevant now.’”

“Oh.” Merlin nods in understanding, and they sit in silence for a few minutes until Arthur yawns again. Merlin straightens up and says, “Right, I guess that’s my cue to go now. It’s been a crazy day; I’m sure you could use some sleep.” He tries to leave and makes it as far as the doorway before the sound of his own name stops him. “Something wrong?” he asks, turning back to face Arthur.

The other man raises an eyebrow and lifts his arms. “ _Merlin_ ,” he repeats, irritated.

“Um… Well…” Merlin pauses, considering the pros and cons of pointing out that he isn’t actually Arthur’s servant anymore and undressing him might be a bit strange under the current circumstances. In the end, he decides that it will only cause more trouble than it’s worth. He rolls his eyes and makes his way back to Arthur, tugging his shirt off over his head. The lack of strings or armor makes the whole situation feel strangely unfamiliar. He kneels at Arthur’s feet, unlaces his sneakers, and holds them while the other man steps out of them. Then he stands back up, freezing for a moment at the belt before unbuckling it and sliding it through the loops.

Apparently the pause is enough for Arthur to finally realize the situation. “Oh.” He steps back, out of Merlin’s reach, and shakes his head. “I’m… sorry, Merlin. I didn’t think…”

“It’s alright,” Merlin replies with a small laugh. “I’m sure it’ll take some time to get used to not being the king anymore. And…” He hesitates, but barrels on after a second anyway. It’s embarrassing and will probably only lead to Arthur bullying him again, but… It’s worth saying, if only to reinforce his loyalty. He bows slightly. “For the record, Sire… I will always consider you my king, and I am happy to continue serving you.”

Arthur chokes on his own spit at that, coughing awkwardly. “Yes, well…” There’s a long silence, and then he waves Merlin away. “Thank you, Merlin. I think I can at least handle undressing myself, however.”

“Of course.” Merlin stands up straight again and does his best to hold back a grin when he notices how red Arthur’s face is. “Well then… Goodnight, Sire.”

He makes it to the door before Arthur stops him yet again. “Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Since when were you ever respectful of my position?”

“I’m sorry, Sire… I don’t understand.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. With a small, fond smile, he says, “Just ‘Arthur’ is fine. Goodnight, Merlin.”

“Right,” Merlin agrees, returning the smile. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if I messed up the Old English. I have no experience whatsoever with that, and the bit of research I did honestly just made it even more confusing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read/kudosed/commented on the last chapter! It makes me really happy that you guys seemed to like a chapter that I was particularly proud of and had a lot of fun writing!
> 
> So here's another update, and there will be a very short one tomorrow, too. After that, unfortunately, I'm not sure how long it will be before I can update more. I'm going to house-sit for my grandma, and while I'll definitely be writing during that time, there's no internet. So I'll have to go somewhere else to post new chapters, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to do that. Hopefully these last few updates in pretty quick succession will be enough to tide everyone over, though. :)

The day after Merlin returns Arthur’s memories, they make a plan. It’s a very simple one, but a plan all the same—drop by Arthur’s dorm long enough to pack a suitcase or two, and then bring him back to live in Merlin’s new guest room until he can stop getting confused and saying things about centuries ago that might make people suspicious.

As they make the walk back to the university, Merlin curses himself for not owning a car. It’s not a long walk, but he’s sure that he’ll be pushed into carrying Arthur’s things on the way back. It’s _almost_ worth it for the way that Arthur keeps looking around the city in awe like he’s seeing everything with new eyes, though.

“This is…” Arthur huffs out a breath and shakes his head, smiling softly.

Merlin takes a moment to imagine the juxtaposition, to think of how he would see the world if he hadn’t watched it change gradually over hundreds of years. He’s not entirely sure if it would be more amazing or terrifying, but he still agrees quietly. “Yeah, it is.”

As they approach the campus, Arthur asks, “Do you wanna go to the cafeteria? I’ve still got a few guest passes left.”

Merlin gives him a pointed look, rolling his eyes when Arthur doesn’t seem to get it. “Arthur. Think about it. We have been eating at that cafeteria regularly for about… three months now. We could go there again to have the same bland, boring food that we always do… or I could take advantage of the fact that I don’t have to hide my magic from you anymore, and we can have some _real_ food.”

“Oh. Right,” Arthur says, blinking. “Straight to the dorm, then, I guess.” They redirect their path, and after a few seconds, he asks curiously, “Doesn’t that go against the laws of the universe or something? Creating something from nothing?”

Merlin laughs. “Normally, yes. But there _are_ ways to… circumnavigate the laws of the universe,” he adds with a sneaky smile.

“You can do that?” Arthur asks, gaping.

“Well, you saw it yesterday, didn’t you? I didn’t steal that room from someone else’s house.” Merlin gives him a minute to let that sink in, then shrugs. “I don’t usually do that, though. For one thing, it feels like cheating, when everyone else has to work for what they have. And for another, it’s dangerous. There are consequences for using magic like that, even if I do know how to avoid most of them by now.”

“Well… If that’s not what you’re planning, then how are you going to use magic to cook?” Arthur asks, brows furrowed.

“I buy the ingredients, and then I use magic to add just the right amount of each and cook it perfectly and quickly,” he answers with a smile.

“…Alright then,” Arthur says eventually, still sounding overwhelmed.

Merlin turns his head away, hiding a smirk. It must be quite a shock for Arthur to realize that his incompetent manservant has a whole host of tricks up his sleeve and is, in reality, more powerful than him. “Anyways, we’re almost there. I’ll wait downstairs while you grab your stuff.”

“Alright,” he agrees, but his eyes widen as they step into the building. “Oh my god.” He laughs to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Um, change of plans. You’re coming with me.”

“Huh? Why? What is it?”

Arthur just laughs again and grabs his hand, racing up the stairs. Merlin stumbles a bit but manages to keep up with him, and they stop outside the door to Arthur’s room. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Can’t believe you forgot _what_?” Merlin is starting to get irritated, but Arthur still doesn’t give him a straight answer.

“This… might be a bit of a shock for you,” he warns. Before Merlin can question him yet again, Arthur drops his hand and pushes the door open.

Merlin freezes in place, and it feels like everything else freezes with him. Then time starts again, and he rushes into the room with a grin. “Gwaine!” he shouts.

The man raises a curious eyebrow at him and takes a small step back. “Do I… know you?”

“Oh, um… No, not really,” Merlin answers, face falling as he shoves down the instinctive reaction to hug the other man. Arthur steps up behind him, clasping his shoulder comfortingly, and Merlin forces a smile back on. “We just met once, a long time ago. I’m not surprised you don’t remember it.”

“Huh. I don’t usually forget a face as gorgeous as yours,” Gwaine says with a smirk. “What’s your name? I can promise I’ll remember you this time.”

Arthur’s hand tightens slightly on his shoulder, but Merlin just laughs. He’s fairly certain that Gwaine has always been straight, but also more than willing to flirt with anyone with a pulse, and it’s strangely reassuring to know that at least some things will never change. “I’m Merlin.”

“Charmed,” Gwaine says before shifting his attention to Arthur with narrowed eyes. “Princess,” he starts, ignoring Arthur’s glare, “You know it’s rude to just barge in, right? Especially with company. What if I’d been… preoccupied?”

“You didn’t _say_ anything about having a woman over,” Arthur replies, his expression caught somewhere between annoyed and resigned. He falls back onto his bed, patting the spot next to him. Merlin eyes the desk chair, but Arthur just cocks an eyebrow, silently challenging Merlin to defy him. He sighs and obediently sits down on the edge of the bed.

“And _you_ didn’t say anything about having a man over,” Gwaine retorts, snickering as Arthur turns an unflattering shade of red. He shrugs, rolling his neck, and says, “Oh well, doesn’t matter. I was just about to head out anyways. Just keep it in mind next time, Princess.” Ignoring Arthur’s sputtering, he stoops to raise Merlin’s hand to his lips. “It was lovely to meet you, Merlin. I hope I see you around more often, preferably without his royal haughtiness.”

“I’m sure you will,” Merlin says, laughing again, “Though I can’t promise it’ll be without Arthur.”

“What a shame,” Gwaine says, feigning a disapproving frown. “Well, I’ll see you later.” He salutes them both, and then he’s gone.

“As annoying as ever,” Arthur mutters, staring at the door. After a moment, he sighs and turns a small smile on Merlin. “But also still as loyal of a friend as you could ever ask for.”

Merlin returns the smile. “I’m glad. Did you just meet when you became roommates?”

“Yeah,” Arthur answers as he stands and pulls his luggage bags out of the closet. He moves to the wardrobe and starts throwing clothes into one. After a minute, he leans back around the door and raises a pointed eyebrow at Merlin. “Well?”

“Well what?” Merlin asks, feigning innocence.

“Are you going to help me?” he asks, gesturing to the other suitcase.

Merlin stands with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, Sire…” he mutters darkly. Louder, he adds, “You know, I _knew_ you would drag me into packing for you, you lazy ass.”

Arthur shoots him a glare for the insult, but it quickly melts into a smirk. “Weren’t _you_ the one saying how _happy_ you are to serve me, just last night?”

He can’t exactly deny it, so Merlin settles for grumbling incoherently and tossing Arthur’s things into the suitcase carelessly.

“Hey, hey!” Arthur objects when he notices what Merlin’s doing. “Textbooks aren’t cheap, you know!”

Merlin glances down at the book in his hands and grins guiltily. “Sorry,” he says, setting it down more carefully. Arthur just sighs and turns back to his own task.

They work in silence for a few minutes, and then Arthur zips up the bag and grins triumphantly. “Done!” He glances around the room and gestures for Merlin to finish up. “I think that’s everything I’ll need for the next few days. Let’s get going.”

“Right.” As expected, Arthur leaves the room without grabbing his suitcases. Merlin scowls and drags them both behind him. _At least they have wheels_ , he thinks, resigned to forever being Arthur’s pack mule.

Arthur locks the door and starts back down the stairs. He stops at the bottom of the first flight, quirking a brow at Merlin as he struggles to get the suitcases down the stairs without dropping them. “Can’t you just…” He trails off, waggling his fingers in the air.

“Oh yes, in broad daylight in the middle of a semi-public place,” Merlin replies. A student inches around him, rushing down the stairs, and he gestures at her in demonstration. “What a brilliant idea, Arthur!”

Arthur gives him a flat look before continuing on, leaving Merlin behind. He only stops when he reaches the ground floor. Merlin is panting by the time he joins him, and he doubles over with his hands on his knees for a minute to breathe. Arthur rolls his eyes and takes the bags, ignoring the other man’s grateful expression.

The walk back is quiet, Arthur lost in his thoughts and Merlin basking in the familiar feeling of standing beside his king again after so long. There are moments when he thinks it all must be a dream, and pinching himself doesn’t do much to persuade him otherwise. _If it_ does _turn out to be a dream, I’d better enjoy it while I can_ , he thinks, trying his hardest to ignore the tightness in his chest.

When they get to the house, they separate for a while, Arthur retiring to the guest room to unpack and Merlin heading for the kitchen. They sit down at the table when the food’s done, and Merlin grins down at his stew as he thinks about what happened here the day before.  _Has it really only been a day?_ he wonders incredulously.

Arthur takes a bite, eyes going wide. “This is… delicious,” he says disbelievingly.

“Told you so,” Merlin replies, resisting the childish urge to stick his tongue out.

“You’re not very good at taking compliments, are you?”

“Well I haven’t exactly had much practice, have I?” he counters. Arthur’s face falls at that, and Merlin hates himself just a little bit for making him feel guilty. “I’m kidding. Thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur nods uncomfortably and returns his attention to his food. When they finish eating, Arthur gapes as Merlin’s eyes flash gold and the dishes clean themselves and return to their proper places in the cupboards. “Alright…” Arthur says, like he’s preparing to say something very difficult, and Merlin tenses. “I want you to tell me _everything_. I want to know about everything I ever missed, and all the times you saved me, because I _know_ you did. Start at the beginning.”

Merlin laughs in relief. “Sure. Let’s go sit in your room? It’s getting chilly, and it’s the only one with a fireplace.” He inwardly curses himself for already thinking of it as Arthur’s room.

“Don’t you have a modern heating system?” Arthur asks, brow furrowed.

“Yeah. I just prefer the fire,” Merlin answers with a shrug.

“Alright then.” They wander into the other room, where Merlin tosses a few logs on and starts the fire with a whispered word. Arthur looks like those little tricks will never stop mystifying him, and Merlin feels a tiny spark of pride for that. They drag the enormous comforter off the bed, wrapping it around their shoulders as they take their spots on the floor, their sides pressed together. “Okay, now talk,” Arthur says once they’re settled in.

So Merlin talks. He tells Arthur about his first day in Camelot, how he had slowed down time to protect him. He speaks of Arthur’s death and how he had desperately used every last drop of his magic trying to save him. And he tells him about every day in between, because for all that his memory has faded, his time with Arthur remains crystal clear.

Arthur stops Merlin only once, when he talks about Dragoon. His eyes widen at the vaguely familiar name, and his eyes get misty when the memories flood back. “So, my father…” He trails off, unsure of how to word his questions without sounding accusatory. For all that he trusts Merlin and knows that he would not have purposefully killed Uther, it’s difficult to reconcile that with what he remembers of Dragoon.

Merlin nods, a pained look darkening his face. “Yes. I was the cause of Uther’s death. But I _swear_ to you that I was only trying to heal him.”

“I believe you,” Arthur assures him. After a long moment, he asks, “What happened, then?”

“Gaius found an amulet around Uther’s neck. It only makes sense that Morgana had Agravaine plant it there. It reversed the effect of any magic used on him. They knew that you would try to use magic to save your father, and they turned it around so that you would blame yourself.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin admits. After a minute of thought, he continues, “I suppose we were all distracted by pain, and… I had already risked too much by telling you that Gaius knew where a sorcerer lived. I couldn’t say that he had knowledge about the magical amulet as well, but I couldn't say that I knew of it myself, either.”

Arthur nods, and for a long time, they sit in silence. He seems to be struggling over this new information, so Merlin gives him the time and peace he needs. Eventually, Arthur lets out a long sigh and gives Merlin a weak smile. “I understand,” he says. “Keep going.”

Merlin continues the story of their time together as they huddle in front of the fire, and Arthur listens surprisingly intently to every word. It’s late into the night when he finishes, but Arthur still wants to hear more, so he keeps talking. He tells him about his childhood, about Ealdor and his mother and Will, about the time he’d knocked a tree down with magic instead of an axe, about sneaking away from home to play in the creek and catch frogs. He tells Arthur about the time _after_ his death, about hearing of Gwaine’s fate and feeling numb for far too long from so many losses in such a short time, about the people mourning for their king, about Gwen ruling with a firm hand and a soft heart, about Leon marrying a young noblewoman and becoming the best and happiest father he’d ever seen, about all the deaths that happened many years later, about Camelot crumbling with no one stepping up to take the throne when Guinevere left no heir. He tells him of his centuries of travel afterwards, and though those memories are blurrier, he can still speak of many of the places he’s been and things he’s done.

When Merlin has run out of things to say and Arthur finally seems satisfied, he’s surprised to realize that there are tears on his face. He wipes them away, unsure if they’re from the sadness of remembering friends long lost or the relief of finally being able to talk about it all and share these memories with someone who will understand. Arthur’s eyes are red as well, and Merlin wonders if he had gotten so wrapped up in his tales that he didn’t notice his king crying with him. It feels so strange to have all of these things released from the prison of his mind that he can’t help a burst of hysterical laughter. Arthur joins him, and they laugh until they’re both in tears all over again.

The sun is rising, but neither of them are tired, so Arthur tells his own stories. He tells Merlin about the time before he came to Camelot, about how when he was a boy he only enjoyed being the prince because he knew he would also get to be a knight one day. He admits to having the wrong kind of friends and being a bit of a bully before Merlin came along. (“And then you just aimed all of your bullying at me,” Merlin concludes, and Arthur just laughs.) He talks about the times that Merlin saw plenty of, when Uther was a ruthless king, and the times he rarely saw, when Uther was a caring father. Arthur confesses how terrified he was to become king himself, and how he’s not sure he would have been able to handle it if he hadn’t had Merlin and Gwen and his knights at his side. He doesn’t talk about his own death and the paralyzing fear and anger he’d felt.

“What about now?” Merlin asks. Arthur hums inquisitively, and he clarifies, “What about this life?”

“There isn’t much to tell,” Arthur answers with a smile. “It isn’t as exciting, that’s for sure. I’ve got a mother and a father, and no siblings, which I guess I should be grateful for.”

His gaze drops to the floor, and Merlin can tell he’s thinking of Morgana. He wonders if Arthur’s thoughts are for her betrayals or for the siblings they could have been if things had been different. “And…?” he prods, trying to distract him.

“And nothing,” Arthur sighs. “I went to normal public schools, where I had normal grades and played normal sports and had normal friends that I had to leave behind when I came to uni. And you know the rest.”

Merlin nods in understanding. Though there may be many wonders of the modern world, it’s really nothing compared to the adventures and battles that they used to have on a regular basis. After a while, life starts to feel pretty damn boring without them.

“So that’s it.”

“So that’s it,” Merlin echoes. He lays down, pillowing his head on his arms, and Arthur mirrors his actions. Merlin grins, blinking tiredly as the lack of sleep finally catches up with him. “I’m glad it’s all out in the open now.”

“Me too.”

“No more secrets,” he promises, his eyes falling shut of their own volition.

“No more secrets,” Arthur agrees quietly.

Merlin can still feel Arthur’s eyes on him as he drifts into sleep, but he doesn’t have enough energy left to say anything about it, nor does he care enough to do so. He sleeps better than he has in a very long time between the warmth of the fire, the soft light of the sun shining through the curtain, his king at his side, and no secrets gnawing at him from within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to Consulting_Hubbies, who guessed way back in chapter 4 that Arthur's roommate was Gwaine. Which I honestly found kind of hilarious, because _I_ hadn't even decided that it was Gwaine by the time I wrote that chapter (though I had by the time I posted it). Arthur's roommate was originally going to be a random OC, until I got to some later scenes that I thought would be much more amusing with Gwaine in them.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short, guys! But like I said in the last one, I'll be gone for a while after this, so I wanted to make sure that I got one last update out for you before I leave, even if that meant it wasn't a very long one. This is the first hint of what's to come in the rest of this fic, though, so I hope you like it!

It doesn’t take long for Merlin to reclaim the purpose that he had lost for so long. Arthur has been unofficially living with him for about a week when Merlin brings up the topic of wanting to push forward towards their destiny. Arthur, on the other hand, is not so eager.

“I can’t exactly just _claim_ the throne all of a sudden, now can I, Merlin?” Arthur says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. They’ve been arguing for quite a while now, Merlin trying to convince him that he’s still destined to be the greatest king the land has ever seen and Arthur trying to convince _him_ that the whole thing is utterly ridiculous and best left in the past. They’re both near their wits’ end.

Merlin sighs. He falls silent for a few minutes while he thinks, then eventually says, “Well… The Great Dragon also said that part of—” He stumbles over the words for a moment because, although he’s heard and even said them many times before, he’s never said them _to Arthur_. “Part of our destiny is to bring magic back to Albion. Maybe that’s the first step. I mean, bringing magic back to the land would be _huge_. That would _have_ to make you worthy of reclaiming the throne, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t think you understand how a monarchy works, Merlin,” Arthur scoffs, but he doesn’t dwell on it for long, because there are much more important things gnawing at him now. Disbelievingly, he asks, “Wait, _I’m_ destined to bring back magic? Even after… after all that my father and I have done?”

“You are not your father, Arthur,” Merlin says seriously, “and you cannot help the prejudices you were raised to believe or anything you did in the past because of them. What you _can_ do is recognize your mistakes, move on, and change the future.”

Arthur stares at him in awe for a long moment. “How do you still have such faith in me?”

“I have _always_ believed in you, Arthur, and that will never change. You are a great man, with a great destiny, and I am honored just to be by your side while you fulfill it.”

Arthur is still looking at him like he can’t quite believe Merlin’s real, but he laughs. “You’re a terrible listener, aren’t you, Merlin?”

“Excuse me?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion.

“You say you’re honored to watch me fulfill ‘my great destiny,’ but didn’t you say it was _our_ destiny? From what you’ve told me, the dragon said we’re two sides of a coin—neither one without the other, right? Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, _you’re_ obviously the one with the power here, especially after having so long to master it.”

“No, I—” Merlin stutters, flushing a bit. “I’m only meant to help you on your path!”

Arthur shakes his head, chuckling. “I would’ve thought you’d be glad to take some credit, now that everything’s out in the open. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and… Now I know that you saved me. Many times.”

“I—yes,” he admits, staring determinedly at a knot in the wooden table.

“And you never received any of the credit for the things you did…” Arthur says thoughtfully. “You shouldn’t have been content to remain as my manservant. You could obviously do so much more.”

“I didn’t _want_ to do anything else!” Merlin exclaims indignantly, eyes jumping up to meet Arthur’s again. “All I have _ever_ wanted is to help you become the person you’re meant to be!”

“Don’t you see, Merlin? You could have done that _and_ have so much more at the same time! If you’d only—only—”

“Only told you about my magic?” Merlin finishes with a sad smile. “You know I couldn’t have done that, Arthur. I wanted to, so badly that I can’t even _begin_ to explain it, but if I had… I wouldn’t have been able to stay by your side. You know that.”

Arthur falls silent, eyes dropping to his plate. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly after a minute. “I know it’s far too late, but I am.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I _knew_ that you were loyal and trustworthy, and yet I still acted like an ass. I should have given you a chance to explain, instead of taking my fear and anger out on you. I’m sorry.”

“You were raised to hate and fear magic, and I betrayed your trust by keeping it hidden from you. I can’t really blame you for reacting the way you did.”

“You could blame me. You _should_ ,” Arthur corrects himself.

Merlin just continues to watch him with that same small smile. “You know I can’t.”

“…Yeah.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy everybody, I'm back! Not much to say about this chapter except: yes, all of the books mentioned are real (in fact, I own most of them haha). I only go into detail about one of them, but hopefully I gave enough context that you don't need to have read it to understand what they're talking about. Anyways, hope everyone enjoys!

Eventually, Arthur convinces Merlin to return to school, at least until they can come to an agreement about Merlin’s plans. He doesn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to return to the dorms, but Merlin certainly doesn’t have any plans to kick him out.

“I’m so lost,” Merlin whines as they walk home after their first day back.

“Well, we _have_ missed nearly two weeks of classes,” Arthur points out.

“I know… There’s _so much_ work to catch up on!”

“Should we start with history? At least we can work together to catch up in that class.”

“Sure,” Merlin says, holding the door open and letting Arthur go through first. “I get the feeling you won’t enjoy it too much, though.”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Merlin?”

“You’ll see,” he promises darkly.

“Alright then…” Arthur rolls his eyes as he toes off his shoes. They drop their bags on the living room floor, and he sits down cross-legged at the coffee table. Merlin follows his lead, taking a seat across from him, and they pull out their books.

Merlin barely manages to read two sentences before he gets distracted. “It’s almost the end of the term.”

Arthur hums an agreement. “And your point is?”

“Registration starts tomorrow.”

“Yes, but first years don’t start until next week.”

“And then it’s Christmas break.”

“Yep…” Arthur keeps his gaze on his book, hoping that maybe Merlin will shut up if he just keeps acting disinterested.

For once, he does. Merlin gives an exaggerated sigh, but returns his attention to the task at hand.

A few minutes later, it’s Arthur himself who interrupts their work. “How did I not realize before that this is all complete rubbish?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.

Merlin chuckles. “Now you know what I meant when I said you wouldn’t like this. I’ve been thinking the same thing all term. I mean, the later parts of history are all told from the wrong perspective and just… shaped to fit whatever they wanted them to be like.” He’s torn between amusement and disgust, and it shows on his face and in his voice. “And in the earlier parts, there’s no mention anywhere of you, or magic, or Camelot, or… or _anything_ that we lived through! How is the _fiction_ more accurate than the _history books_?”

“Fiction?” Arthur asks, eyes narrowing. “You mean you actually know more about the myths than that they exist?”

“Yeah, I—I have a collection.” The confession makes his face burn, but he stands up and gestures for Arthur to follow him. He leads the way to his library, unlocking the door and removing the spell he’d cast on it, and points to a shelf in the corner.

Arthur eyes him curiously and wanders over to the shelf. It’s filled from top to bottom with books that have titles like _King Arthur and His Knights, The Mirror of Merlin,_ and _Camelot Chronicles_.

“We’re _myths_ , Arthur,” Merlin whispers, watching the other man run his fingers over the spines. After all these years, it’s still hard to believe. “ _Legends._ ”

“Have you read… _all_ of these?” he asks incredulously.

“Every single one,” Merlin replies with a tiny smile. When Arthur just stares at him for a moment, he attempts to lighten the mood with, “I guess ‘Dragoon’ was more memorable than ‘Merlin’ though, because for some reason, I’m an old man in most of them.”

Arthur snickers and turns back to the shelves, pulling a book out at random. “Can I…?”

“Of course,” Merlin answers with a shrug. He stoops to peer at the cover and nearly snorts. _The Once and Future King_. “I guess it should be _The Once and_ Present _King_ now, huh?”

“No, it shouldn’t, because I’m _not actually the king_.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “What aren’t you getting about that, Merlin?”

Merlin grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like ‘stubborn prat,’ and Arthur turns a glare on him.

“What was that?” he asks. His tone is overly pleasant, but Merlin can clearly hear the threat that underlies it.

“Nothing, Sire!” he answers with an unconvincing grin.

“That’s what I thought.” Arthur falls silent, opening up to a page in the middle of the book and reading. He closes it again after a minute and replaces it on the shelf. Keeping his gaze on the books so he doesn’t have to meet Merlin’s eyes, he asks, “Do you mind if… if I read some of them?”

“We still have homework,” Merlin reminds him regretfully.

“I know. I meant after that. After we finish our work, can I?”

“Of course. You can come in here whenever you want and _read_ whatever you want. Except… If you read any of the spellbooks, I’d prefer if you didn’t do it aloud. I don’t think you have any magic, but just in case. I’d rather not come home to find my house on fire or something.”

Arthur chuckles. “Don’t worry, I just meant these ones,” he reassures him, gesturing to the shelf they’re standing by.

“Alright. Oh!” Merlin glances around at all of the magical instruments on the floor and desk, grinning sheepishly. “Um… Just give me a second to clean up.” With a wave, the items start floating out the door, and he follows to make sure they settle in the right places. Arthur waits a moment, blinking dumbly, then laughs and goes after him.

* * *

A loud thump jolts Merlin out of his sleep that night, and he reacts instinctively, calling upon his magic, feeling it flow through his body and pool in his fingertips. A quick glance around the room reveals no danger, however. He glances at the clock as he quietly climbs out of bed and creeps to the door. 3:14—far too early to be awake, much less protecting his home from intruders.

Suddenly, he remembers that he has more to protect than just his home now; he has his king, as well. _Maybe that’s why they’re here. Maybe somebody knows, somehow._ The thought makes his throat close up as he tiptoes down the hallway, following sounds that are much quieter now than the first was. He pushes open the door to the library, and the man standing in the middle of the room jumps, turning to face him.

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?” Arthur asks. Merlin slumps, every muscle in his body relaxing at once as he lets out a relieved laugh. “I dropped a book,” Arthur explains, holding up a thick volume in demonstration.

“No,” Merlin lies, smiling. “It’s fine. Why are you still reading, though? It’s so late.”

“Once I started, I just… couldn’t stop,” Arthur says sheepishly, sitting back down. Merlin blinks at the fairly large pile of books on the desk, wondering if Arthur has somehow already read them all. “Our stories have been told in _so many_ different ways. It’s like… If you put bits and pieces together from each of them, then you’d get the truth, but… We’re the only two people alive who know which pieces are the true ones, aren’t we?”

“As far as I’m aware, yes.”

“And actually, _you’re_ the only who really knows. I missed so much of it. So much was happening behind the scenes that I had no clue about.”

“Arthur, don’t—” Merlin starts, but Arthur stops him with a shake of his head.

“I’m not pitying myself, Merlin. I’m not sad, or angry, or anything else, really. It’s just _strange_.”

“I understand,” he replies with a nod, and he truly does. After all, Merlin has read all these books, too. He knows how bizarre it feels to read your own story told by someone who wasn’t there and has no idea what really happened.

“There’s just… one thing,” Arthur says, not meeting his eyes. He holds up one of the smaller books. “This… this isn’t right… Is it? I mean, obviously there are some things that are all wrong, but… This wasn’t… _me_ , was it?”

Merlin takes a few steps forward and peers at the title. _Here Lies Arthur._ He grits his teeth, immediately understanding. That was the one book he had truly loathed. He had very nearly set it into the fire rather than the shelf after reading it. “ _No_ ,” he says forcefully. “Arthur, you were no tyrant, no selfish fool killing your kinsmen because of wounded pride. You are a kind and benevolent man, and you ruled the way you lived. Please, _never_ doubt that. Besides,” he adds, trying to lessen the weight of his own words, “I’m certainly no silly old bard weaving false tales of magic and heroism.”

“But there were people who saw it this way.” It’s a statement, not a question, and Merlin hates that. “There were people who believed that I was cruel, that the things I did were out of hatred or greed, that… That I was just like my father.”

“…Yes,” Merlin admits reluctantly. “There will always be people who believe everything they hear. There will always be people who hate—or fear—only because they don’t understand.”

“You’re speaking from experience,” Arthur observes with a small frown.

“Yes,” he replies. Denial would be useless at this point.

“I’m s—”

“Don’t,” Merlin cuts him off. “Stop apologizing, okay? You’ve already apologized enough, and the past is in the past.”

“Alright,” Arthur agrees, though he knows that tamping down that reflex will be difficult.

“Anyways…” Merlin drifts off, then wanders over to pluck the book from Arthur’s hand and replace it on the shelf. “I was just trying to say that… No matter how anyone else might have seen it, I _knew_ you. I _know_ you. You only ever did what you had to do to protect your people. You are, and always have been, a good person,” he finishes emphatically, forcing Arthur to meet his eyes so that he’ll see the truth in them.

“I…” Arthur stops, sighs, and restarts with a small smile. “Thank you, Merlin. You’re the most loyal friend I ever could have hoped for.”

“Oh, friends now, are we?” Merlin teases in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Arthur chuckles. “Well, I always did say ‘if things were different,’ didn’t I? And they are different now. I’m not the king, and you’re certainly not just a servant. I think it would be alright now.”

“Yeah,” Merlin agrees, unable to keep the silly grin off his face. Of course he knows that they’d really _always_ been friends, but something about both of them being able to _say_ it feels great. “Now, come on,” he says, wrapping an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “You need to get some sleep.”

“But—”

“You can keep reading tomorrow. The books won’t magically disappear.”

“Well, you never know with _you_ around,” Arthur retorts with a smirk.

“I promise not to vanish them while you’re asleep,” Merlin swears, laughing.

“Alright. Goodnight,” Arthur says as they reach the door to his room.

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

“Oh, and Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“You already said that,” Merlin points out with a lopsided smile.

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs, then disappears into his room without another word.

“You’re welcome, Arthur,” Merlin says to the empty hallway. He shakes his head, laughing quietly, then crawls back into his own bed. He’s out again the moment his head touches the pillow.


	12. Chapter 12

“Lance and Gwen are going to a party tonight,” Merlin relays after reading the text they’d sent him. “They’re asking if we want to come, too.”

He shoves his toes under Arthur’s thigh, finally forcing him to stop reading. Merlin hasn’t seen Arthur without his nose in a book for nearly a week now, but he can’t exactly blame him. After all, he’d thrust Arthur into this strange situation with no warning whatsoever. Managing to steal his attention for even a few moments is still kind of gratifying, though, and he grins when Arthur looks up from the book. Arthur glances down at Merlin’s foot, then back up to his face with one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“My feet are cold,” Merlin explains unrepentantly.

Arthur doesn’t seem amused. “I’m not your personal heater, Merlin.” After a moment, Merlin’s earlier words catch up to him. “Wait, did you say they asked us to a party?”

“Yes,” he answers, barely restraining a laugh at Arthur’s distraction.

Arthur digs his phone out of his pocket with a frown. “ _I_ didn’t get a message. How did they know…?”

“Lucky guess?” Merlin suggests, though he knows that the true answer is ‘Gwen’s intuition’ and ‘the fact that we’ve been together 24/7 ever since you remembered.’

Arthur hums doubtfully but let’s the subject drop. “Sure, why not?” he says, shrugging.

“You sure? You don’t want another night alone with the books?” Merlin teases.

“You’re the one who said I could read whatever I wanted,” Arthur says defensively. After a moment, though, his indignant frown slowly transforms into a smirk. Merlin senses the danger immediately. “You know, I’d almost think that you were jealous.”

“Jealous,” Merlin echoes, deadpan. “Of a book.”

Arthur shrugs. “Upset about me not paying enough attention to you, hmm?”

“No, just tired of you sitting around my house like a lump on a log,” he denies, though Arthur’s taunt is closer to the truth than he’d like to admit.

The smirk remains, making it loud and clear that Arthur doesn’t buy his lie for a moment. However, all he says is, “Well then, let’s go to that party, if you’re so eager to get me out of your house. What time does it start?”

“Uh… Eight,” Merlin answers after double-checking the text.

“Better go get ready then.”

“We’ve got five hours,” he says, brow wrinkling in confusion.

“You’ll need the extra time,” Arthur says, lips pursed to hold in his laughter.

“I hate you,” Merlin sighs in exasperation.

“No you don’t.”

\-----

There was a time when a crowd like this would have set him on edge, when every person would be a potential embarrassment or danger. Merlin has long since learned to let it go, though. He’s learned to face almost any mortifying moment with a smile, knowing that it will pass sooner or later, and to let his magic and natural instincts be on guard for threats instead of wasting conscious effort.

Arthur seems similarly at ease, putting on his most charismatic smile and weaving through the crowds like they’re parting just for him. He stops to talk to anyone who greets him, friend and stranger alike. Merlin just stands back and watches him work his own brand of magic, content with remaining in the background.

So it’s a bit of a surprise when they finally find an open spot to sit and Arthur falls onto the loveseat with a sigh. “That is exhausting,” he says, though he’s still smiling for anyone who might glance their way.

“Then why do it?” Merlin asks, frowning worriedly.

“Because I have to,” Arthur replies like it’s obvious. “I told you before, didn’t I? You have to understand all kinds of people if you want to make any kind of change. Besides, you have to network if you want to get anywhere, and you never know who will end up being an incredibly important person. I never thought _you_ would be, for example.” It somehow comes out sounding equal parts mocking and impressed.

“So you think of it as work,” Merlin concludes, still confused but trying his best to understand.

“Kind of.” Arthur shrugs, then hurries to add on, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about each of them as people! I do, and I even see some of them as friends. It’s just a bit tiring to always act happy and sociable, even when I don’t want to.” Merlin can’t help but notice the tiniest bitter edge to his tone, and he knows immediately that none of them are _close_ friends. None of them are people that Arthur can drop the act around or confide in.

“Are you not?” Merlin asks quietly. “Happy, I mean?”

Arthur takes some time to consider it, gaze wandering around the party aimlessly. Then he turns back, and _there_ it is, finally. There’s that smile, the _real_ one, the tiny, fond one—the one that, when Merlin thinks about it, he’s really only ever seen aimed at himself or Gwen. “I am. Lately, at least.”

Merlin can hear the words that Arthur doesn’t say, and he returns the smile, touched. Before he can say anything more, Arthur jolts, staring at something behind Merlin. He turns to follow his gaze and finds Gwen and Lance leaning against the far wall and talking, bottles in their hands and smiles on their faces.

“Guinevere,” Arthur breathes.

He’s looking at her as though seeing her for the first time, and Merlin feels a little piece of his heart break all over again. He closes his eyes against the pain, taking a deep breath and reminding himself, _This is how it always was, how it’s destined to always_ be _. You knew that from the start. You did it once; you can do it again._ Then he reopens his eyes with a plastic smile and asks, “Rethinking your earlier opinion?”

“Huh?” Arthur asks, brows furrowed.

“When I asked before, you said you weren’t interested in her. I suppose that’s changed now that you know she was once your wife?”

Arthur looks at her for a long moment, then turns back to Merlin with a sigh. “No,” he answers, to Merlin’s surprise. “She’s Gwen, not Guinevere. I know that in some ways, they’re the same person, but…” He trails off with a shrug.

“But the look you were giving her…”

He huffs out a laugh, at odds with the sadness showing on his face. “A part of me will always love her, and I miss her more than I can say. It’s difficult to let her go,” Arthur admits. He gestures to Gwen and Lance, and Merlin isn’t sure he’s ever seen two people look quite as in love as they do. “But she deserves this happiness, and I won’t be the one to take it from her.”

“She was happy with you, too,” Merlin points out.

“Sometimes.” Arthur sighs and continues, “But I made her unhappy plenty of times, too, and there was always one thing or another getting in the way. It was never effortless like _that_.”

“Arthur…” He trails off sadly, because as much as he may want to be with Arthur, it’s more important that Arthur just be happy. That’s always been the most important thing, and… Maybe he understands what Arthur is saying a little better than he’d like to.

“It’s fine,” the other man insists with a small smile. “Being her friend is more than I could ask for. Besides, we had our time. Maybe it’s time to move on.”

Merlin can’t say anything in response to that, so they fall silent, both lost in thought. After a few minutes, Arthur suddenly asks, “Don’t you think it’s about time for you to return their memories, too?”

“No,” Merlin answers resolutely.

“What? Why the hell not?”

“You said it yourself,” Merlin replies with a sad smile. “They deserve this happiness. I can’t take it away from them just because it would make _me_ feel better.”

“Why do you think they’d be unhappy if they knew?”

“You know how Lancelot is,” he sighs. “He’d give Gwen up in a second if he remembered, and would probably feel guilty for ever having been with her in the first place. And I think the guilt of betraying you under Morgana’s command would eat him alive, even if it wasn’t _really_ him.”

Arthur watches their friends speculatively for a minute, then nods in agreement. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I usually am,” Merlin teases, eager to change the subject before his resolve breaks.

“Well _that’s_ just a blatant lie,” Arthur retorts with a grin. However, he isn’t ready to let it go as easily as Merlin had hoped. “What about Gwaine, then?”

“What?”

“Are you going to let Gwaine remember? Or would that hurt him in some way, too?”

“I… I don’t know,” Merlin admits. “I’d like to, and I think that he might actually be glad to have those memories.”

“But…?” Arthur questions, hearing the uncertainty in Merlin’s voice loud and clear.

“I never learned the details of his death. I don’t think _anyone_ knew the details, even Percival. But it wasn’t difficult to figure out that Morgana tortured him because he was protecting us. I don’t know what kind of damage that could do to him mentally.”

“Isn’t there some way that you could let him remember everything _except_ his death?” Arthur asks hopefully.

Merlin shakes his head. “The spell took months to figure out and was very… taxing to perform. Trying to modify it like that would be even harder and take even longer. I can try, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it.”

“Is there any way I can help? I could help you research, or something. You’ve got _tons_ of spellbooks!”

“I don’t think so,” Merlin says with a chuckle. “I’ve read every single one of those, and none of them had what I was looking for. I created that spell myself, hence why it was so difficult. Besides, most of those books aren’t in English.”

“Oh.” Arthur’s face falls, and Merlin claps a hand onto his shoulder.

“It’s alright. I’ll figure something out. And even if I don’t…” He gestures around them in a vague sweeping motion. “They’re all still here, right? Even if we’re the only ones that remember the past, they’re still our friends in the present.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Arthur replies, trying for a smile. He only gets halfway there, but it’s better than nothing.

Merlin inhales deeply and lets it out on a long sigh before standing. “I’m gonna get us some drinks, and then we should go meet up with Lance and Gwen. I think we’ve been creepily watching them for long enough, don’t you?”

“It wasn’t creepy!” Arthur objects. Merlin gives him a long look, and his face twists into a pout for just a moment before returning to a neutral expression. “Okay, maybe it was, just a little bit… but it wasn’t intentional!”

“I’m aware, Arthur,” Merlin says with a chuckle. “I was there.”

“Just go get the drinks already,” Arthur huffs, and Merlin leaves to do so with an amused smile.

It only takes a minute, but Arthur is already deep in conversation with a pretty brunette when Merlin returns. He silently passes a beer bottle over, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Arthur when he realizes that the young woman has taken his spot. Arthur raises an eyebrow, and Merlin answers his unasked question with, “All they had.”

Arthur nods and takes an unnecessarily large swig of his drink. He keeps the bottle raised to his lips until the silence stretches on long enough for the girl to walk away with pursed lips and a roll of her eyes. Merlin tries to hold back his laughter, but a small coughing sound still escapes. Arthur just lowers the bottle and grins back sneakily. “Ready to go be social again?” Merlin asks.

“Not really,” Arthur sighs, “But I think I can handle it if it’s just friends.” He glances around the party one more time, stalling, then stands and holds out a hand to pull Merlin up. “Let’s go then,” he says, already leading the way through the crush of people. He keeps a hold on Merlin’s hand (just so they don’t lose each other, of course), only dropping it when they reach the others.

“Oh, you’re here!” Gwen says, happily surprised. “I was starting to worry you got lost or something.”

“Gwen, we all live here in town,” Merlin points out. “It’d be pretty pathetic if we got lost.”

Arthur looks at him from the corner of his eye, smirking. “I’m sure you’d manage it somehow if I wasn’t there to save you, Merlin.”

“ _Save_ me?” Merlin scoffs. “ _I’m_ not the helpless one here, Mr. Can’t-Even-Und—”

Arthur coughs loudly, a clear warning, and Merlin shuts up with a blush. “ _Anyways_ … How’s the party been while we’ve been… missing?” he asks, unwilling to reveal that they’ve been here for quite a while. “Having fun?”

Lance raises an eyebrow, easily catching on to the sudden topic change, but is kind enough to let it go. “It’s alright,” he answers with a shrug.

“Yeah. We’ve mostly just been hanging out here, though,” Gwen adds, gesturing to the little bubble of space they’ve managed to carve for themselves.

“What, no dancing?” Merlin teases.

“Nobody’s _really_ dancing,” she points out.

He looks around and quickly realizes that she’s right. There’s music blaring from a couple of speakers in the corner, but everybody is more engrossed in talking and drinking. Any ‘dancing’ is restrained to bobbing heads and tapping feet. “Well that’s boring,” Merlin pouts.

“What, do _you_ want to go dance?” Arthur asks incredulously, and Merlin hurriedly shakes his head.

“Oh no no no. _Hell_ no,” he adds for emphasis, making the others laugh.

“Then why do you care?”

Merlin simply shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought there was always dancing at parties.”

“Have you ever actually _been_ to a party, Merlin?” Gwen asks, voice heavy with sarcasm but lips twisted up in amusement.

“Um, well…” He bites his lip, wondering whether or not he should lie. _Would it be too strange if I said ‘no?’_ Luckily, Arthur saves him from answering before he can come to a decision.

“He had a… weird childhood,” Arthur says, echoing what Merlin had told him not long after they first met in this lifetime.

Merlin flashes him a quick smile and nods in agreement. “I didn’t really have the chance to go to parties… Well, not _this_ kind of party anyway.”

“Then what…?” Lance trails off curiously.

Merlin takes a long drink to buy more time, then grins. “Hmm… Stupid, fancy things,” he answers. Eying Arthur mischievously, he continues, “Stuffy. Boring.”

“Really? You went to parties like that?” Gwen asks, eyes wide.

He nods. “Kind of. I worked at them. I mostly just stood around pouring drinks for people.” Arthur shoots him a nervous look, and Merlin immediately clams up, aware that he’s getting too close to the truth.

Thankfully, their friends seem to take that as explanation enough. They nod in understanding, and Gwen sighs, “Lucky. The only job I’ve had is the one I’ve got now. Still lots of standing around pouring drinks, but at least it sounds like you got to do it a nicer place.”

“I guess that depends on your definition of ‘nice,’” Merlin chuckles, thinking of Uther’s shouting and the lewd comments he’d occasionally gotten from drunken nobles. Of course, having Gwen at his side had made it easier, and Arthur could make things infinitely better or worse depending on his mood on any given day.

“Why are we talking about _work_?” Arthur groans. He’s handing Merlin an easy chance to escape the conversation, and Merlin desperately latches onto it.

“Right, we should be having _fun_!” he agrees.

“We could join them,” Gwen suggests, nodding at a group of students sitting on the floor in the corner. “Looks like they’re gathering people for a game.”

“Probably truth or dare,” Lance chimes in, and Merlin blanches.

“I… think I’ve had enough of that, thanks,” he says, and Arthur snorts quietly.

“Fair enough. I’m not a big fan myself. Somehow, I seem to always end up running down the street in my underthings…” Gwen says thoughtfully. Merlin laughs as Lance and Arthur turn interesting shades of red.

“Yeah, let’s… skip that, then,” Lance says, looking like he’s just eaten a particularly sour lemon.

“Agreed,” Arthur says quickly.

Instead, they end up sitting down in their own little circle, drinking and telling stories. After a while, they start asking each other questions and doling out dumb challenges, which seems to be the default for certain people once they get a bit tipsy. In the end, Merlin muses, it's basically their own game of truth or dare, albeit without any penalties other than wounded pride.

Of course, their resident matchmaker eventually asks the question that Merlin knew she would sooner or later. “So, Merlin… You like Arthur, right?” Gwen asks. Her voice is faux casual, but he can see the spark in her eyes that says we won’t weasel his way out of answering this one. Apparently she’s already forgotten the promise she made him. Maybe that’s just the alcohol making her mind a little hazy, though; his is certainly starting to fog up a bit.

“’Course I do. He’s my best friend,” he replies before using his drink as a convenient excuse to stall again.

Gwen sighs, long and loud. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Merlin just shrugs and smirks. He’s not sure why he bothers to deny it anymore. They flirt constantly, and he’s all but confessed to Arthur at this point. But saying the words aloud… That would change things. For better or worse, everything could change, and that’s not a risk that he’s quite ready to take.

“Alright, fine then,” Gwen bites out. “Arthur—same question for you.”

“Do I like myself?” Arthur teases, but his cheeks have turned a light shade of pink. “Of course I do; what’s not to like?”

She growls in frustration, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back to bounce against the wall behind her. It makes a surprisingly loud thump, and Lance looks to her worriedly. He lifts one hand like he’s going to rub her head or check it for bumps, but he lets it fall after a few moments. “You two are insufferable,” Gwen groans.

“I know,” Merlin admits. He tries to sound apologetic but can’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice.

“I’ll get you to admit it one day,” she swears, one eye popping open to glare at each of them in turn.

“I know,” he repeats. If it’s a little too close to a confession itself, nobody points it out. Arthur takes another gulp of his beer, shaking the bottle a bit when that empties it. Merlin looks down at his own and hurriedly swallows down the last few mouthfuls. “I’ll go get us some more,” he says brightly. Gwen levels a hard stare at him but lets him escape without protest.

Merlin takes a few minutes in the kitchen to collect himself, moving unnecessarily slowly. He can only put off his return for so long, though. As he makes his way back, he decides to turn this little game around on his friends. He hands Arthur a bottle and then sits down cross-legged next to him. Arthur eyes his grin suspiciously and waits to see what he’s planning.

“So, Lance…” Merlin starts, aiming for nonchalant and missing by a mile. “When are you gonna propose?” Gwen flushes and stares determinedly at the carpet, waiting silently to hear how Lance will deflect the question.

“I—Um… W-what?” Lance stutters, and Merlin has a sudden flash of understanding. Though he’d only meant to tease them a bit, it’s struck too close to home. Lance is actually planning to propose to his girlfriend, and probably soon.

“Just kidding!” Merlin cuts off his friend’s stammering, laughing too loudly. “Sorry. Just had to get a bit of revenge, you know?”

“O-oh. Right,” Lance agrees, nodding quickly. He shoots Merlin a grateful look, and somehow it’s clear that he knows that Merlin knows.

The conversation is a bit stilted and uncomfortable after that, but at least it stops Gwen’s teasing. After another hour or so, the party starts to die down. Since Lance and Gwen both live near campus, Arthur shares a taxi with them and heads back to his own dorm. Merlin is left to stumble home alone.

He’s never realized just how empty his house feels when it’s just him.

\-----

Apparently, Arthur feels similarly. When he shows up at Merlin’s front door the next morning with another bag and an almost shy smile, Merlin just grins and lets him in. They don’t talk about how there are almost as many of Arthur’s possessions in the house as Merlin’s, or about how neither of them can stand the quiet anymore.

After all, they’ve never really needed words to understand each other.


	13. Chapter 13

It’s a few days into Christmas break that Merlin finally feels something within him snap. He lets himself feel the pain without trying to fight; it has to happen every once in a while. Bottled up emotions only lead to far worse consequences. So he takes a seat on his bedroom floor in front of the large painting on the wall, and lets himself break down for a while. It’s almost a relief.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he hears a gentle click from the door. Merlin can feel Arthur’s presence as he walks up behind him and sits down on the floor next to him. In the back of his mind, Merlin wonders whether it was the light under the door or the sound of his sniffles that drew him.

“Why are you still awake?” Arthur asks quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Merlin answers, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. His gaze doesn’t leave the picture, and Arthur notices after a few seconds.

“Who is she?” he asks gently.

Merlin gives a watery laugh. “Of course you wouldn’t recognize her. She was quite old when I hired someone to paint that.” Arthur just makes a quiet, questioning noise, and Merlin explains, “It’s my mother.”

“Really?” Arthur asks, and he nods in reply. “Well, now that you’ve told me, I can kind of see it. Hunith was a lovely woman even so late in life.”

He doesn’t know why, but the statement pushes a loud sob out of him, and the tears begin to flow freely again. “I don’t—” Merlin starts, but it’s useless to try to explain. Instead, he says, “She was. She was beautiful up until the very day she died. I—I’ve done my fair share of grieving over the years, and usually… Usually it’s okay. I’ve made my peace. But… every once in a while, the pain comes back. Every once in a while, it feels like the wound has been torn open and made fresh again.”

“I understand,” Arthur says softly.

Merlin thinks of how Arthur’s mother had died before he had a chance to know her, taken by magic that they hadn’t understood. He thinks of Uther and how, in some ways, his blood is still on Merlin’s hands. He thinks of his own mother, and the father he had hardly known, and Gaius, who was more than a father to him. And he allows himself to cry freely, to weep for both of them and all of the people they had lost so long ago. He turns to hug Arthur, clinging to him desperately. Arthur clings back, and if Merlin can feel his shirt soaking through where Arthur rests his head, he doesn’t mention it.

Neither of them speak for a very long time.

* * *

“It feels strange to mourn for my parents when I know that I have two parents who are alive and well, and I can call them whenever I want,” Arthur finally says once it feels safe to break the silence. With a hint of humor in his voice, he adds, “You’d think that the oddest part of having two sets of memories would be thinking you’re both a king and a normal university student, but there are far weirder things than that.”

“I’m glad. That you have them both this time around, I mean,” Merlin clarifies. “You deserve to know a mother’s love and a father with no rage in his heart.”

Arthur says nothing, just smiles weakly, puffy eyes resting on Hunith rather than her son.

“Sometimes it hurts to remember… everyone,” Merlin says. He shrugs with a tight smile. “I feel like I _have_ to, though… After all, we’re the only ones who can.”

“Yeah,” Arthur agrees quietly. It hasn’t taken him long to realize how much of a burden mere memories can be. They fall into silence again for a few minutes, until Arthur can gather enough of his usual bluster to stand and threaten, “Don’t you dare tell anyone that I—er, don’t tell anyone about this. Or I’ll have you—” Arthur abruptly cuts himself off, teeth clacking together loudly, and Merlin smirks.

“You’ll have me what?” he taunts. “Can’t put me in the stocks anymore, now can you?”

“Oh, I’ll find a way,” Arthur warns lowly, wagging a finger in Merlin’s face before turning away.

“I won’t,” Merlin calls out before Arthur can escape the room. Turning to look at him seriously, he says, “You know I won’t.”

Arthur stares at him blankly, then sags slightly after a few seconds. “I know.”

“Don’t you go telling anyone, either,” Merlin adds with a small, teasing smile. Arthur’s lips twitch, but he only shakes his head and walks away, shutting the door quietly behind himself. Merlin looks back to the painting for a long moment, then stands with a sigh. He curls up in his bed, facing away from it, and turns off the light with a flick of his wrist. He hesitates for a minute, then whispers, “ _Ferian mîn hordcofa_.” _Goodnight, Arthur._

Merlin doesn’t have to wait long to see if it worked. He hears a loud, “What the—” echoing both within his head and on the other side of the wall. Then, much quieter and only in his head, he hears a hesitant, _Goodnight…? How the hell did you do that?_

Merlin laughs and does the mental equivalent of a shrug. He can feel Arthur’s confusion and frustration bubbling under the surface of his own thoughts. Realizing how easily this could become invasive, he repeats, _Goodnight_ , and quickly cuts the connection. “ _Âsynd−ran_.”

“That could be dangerous,” he berates himself, but something in his chest disagrees and is doing a giddy dance, urging him to do it again. Merlin shoves it down and forces himself to close his eyes, counting sheep until his mind is empty of all else.

* * *

Merlin’s walking circles around his room a few days later, trying to find a solution for the problem with Gwaine’s memories, when there’s a light knock on his door. “Come in,” he calls, pausing his pacing.

The door opens to reveal Arthur, frowning at the wrapped package in his hands. _Ahh, maybe he wants Christmas present advice,_ Merlin thinks, amused. _Arthur never was any good at figuring out things like that on his own. Wonder who it’s for._

However, Arthur doesn’t offer any explanation or questions. He remains in his spot in the doorway, still scowling at the present like it’s done something to offend him.

“Wha—?”

Before Merlin can finish his question, Arthur takes a deep breath and strides across the room to meet him in three long steps. His expression morphs into a nervous smile, but he holds his chin up high and tries to act confident. “Happy birthday,” he says, handing over the package.

Merlin slowly reaches out to accept it, blinking down at the gift with mild confusion. He barks out a laugh. “I—I didn’t even know it was my birthday,” he admits after a few seconds.

“What? How do you not know your own birthday?” he asks skeptically.

“I forgot.” Merlin runs a hand through his hair, sighing as he plops down to sit on the floor. “I haven’t celebrated a birthday since I turned… 45, I think. Gwen was the last person left to celebrate with me, and once she was gone… I didn’t really see the point anymore. No reason to celebrate your own life if all your friends are dead.” He looks up, sees the pained look on Arthur’s face, and gives him a bitter smile. “Sorry, that was a bit too dark, wasn’t it? I… Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate the gift, and that _you_ remember my birthday even if I don’t.”

Arthur squats down next to him and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to wait all that time, Merlin, but you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and so are Gwen and Lance and Gwaine, even if they don’t remember everything.”

“Thank you,” Merlin says again, leaning into his side.

“Now hurry up and open your present,” Arthur urges, standing back up and pacing for a few moments.

Merlin chuckles and complies, tearing the paper apart and tossing little pieces to the floor. He opens the plain white box inside to find red and blue neckerchiefs. He smiles stupidly at them for a few moments, then up at Arthur.

“I missed the scarves,” he admits sheepishly. “They always suited you, and seeing you without them has been… strange.”

 “I… Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin says, setting the box on the floor and standing up to hug him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, hugging him back. Then he gently pushes him back and adds, “Now stop thanking me already.”

“Right.” Merlin steps back and leans down to pick up the red scarf. He goes to tie it around his neck but winces as his hair gets caught in it.

“Here.” Arthur steps up behind him, taking the neckerchief from his hand. “I hadn’t really noticed, but your hair’s getting longer, isn’t it? Hold it up.”

Merlin obeys the gentle command and says, “Yeah, I guess it is. Maybe I should have it cut.” He shivers a bit as Arthur’s fingers brush the nape of his neck, and he gets the sneaking suspicion that the second time Arthur does it is entirely deliberate.

“Maybe,” he agrees, resting his hands on Merlin’s shoulders and turning him to look him over. He rakes his fingers through a lock of Merlin’s hair and smiles. “But you look good like this, too.”

Merlin flushes, searching Arthur’s eyes for some hint of what he’s playing at. Arthur seems to swing from hot to cold in the blink of an eye, and Merlin can’t tell anymore when he’s flirting and when he’s just messing with him. For some reason, Merlin dares to let himself hope this time. “Arthur…?”

Arthur hums distractedly, still holding him by the shoulders. Before Merlin can ask what he wants to, though, Arthur beats him to it. One hand moves to his cheek, and Merlin leans into it, heart pounding. He blinks dazedly and nearly misses the way Arthur’s gaze darts from his eyes down to his lips. “Can I…?” Arthur trails off, running his thumb over Merlin’s bottom lip and swallowing harshly.

The question is somehow both completely surprising and exactly what he’d been expecting. Merlin gives a tiny nod in response, barely moving at all, and then Arthur is kissing him. It’s gentler than he expected, and Merlin melts into it, eyes fluttering shut and lips forming a small smile against Arthur’s. They part after a minute, foreheads pressed together, and Merlin huffs out a laugh. Arthur grins back, running a thumb over his cheek.

“Why did I wait so long to do that?” Arthur wonders aloud, eyes dancing over Merlin’s face.

“I don’t know, but at least we got another chance.”

Arthur hums in agreement, but pulls away after another minute. His smile morphs into a more serious expression. “Merlin?”

“Yes…?” Merlin replies, frowning in concern at the sudden change.

“Would you—?” He clears his throat and looks away before trying again. “Would you like to go out with me this Friday?”

“You prat,” Merlin groans, but his relieved chuckle gives him away. “You had me worried for a second there!”

“Sorry,” Arthur says with a completely unrepentant grin, but it’s brittle. Merlin can see the tension in the way his jaw clenches, the insecurity in his eyes.

He sighs, gaze softening. “Of course I will, you idiot. As if I’d say anything else.”

Arthur’s eyes light up again, and Merlin can’t do anything but smile back and try to pretend that he isn’t falling hard all over again.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy, look at that! A chapter is actually _early_ for once! To be honest, I thought this would take quite a bit longer, but then I realized that I already had a pretty good chunk of this written from months ago. So, here you go, have a bonus chapter!

“Why are we waiting in line, and why hasn’t it moved in the half hour that we’ve been here?”

Arthur just smiles and pats the ground next to him. “Settle in; we’re gonna be here for a while.”

“How long is ‘a while?’” Merlin asks, but he obediently takes a seat on the pavement.

“Hmm… About three hours,” Arthur replies after checking his watch.

“Three hours?” he gapes. “You’re telling me that our first date is three hours of sitting on the ground.”

“No, I’m telling you that the _beginning_ of our first date is three hours of sitting on the ground. _And_ talking,” Arthur says unapologetically. Though Merlin might be irritated now, Arthur knows that he’ll be forgiven once he sees the real surprise.

“This better be worth it,” Merlin huffs, just to keep up appearances. They could spend the entire day watching paint dry and he probably wouldn't care.

“It will be,” Arthur promises with a grin.

* * *

“This place is _huge_ ,” Merlin gasps when they finally enter the building. He stares up at the unbelievably high ceiling for a few moments before heading for a seat. Arthur grabs his wrist and pulls him all the way down the stairs instead, onto the floor and straight up in front of the stage.

“Do you get it yet?” Arthur asks, smirking.

Merlin nods. “Well, mostly. We’re obviously here for some kind of show… A concert?”

“Yep.”

“Who is it?”

The secretive smile that Arthur’s been wearing for most of the afternoon returns, and he shrugs. “I wonder…” he drawls.

Merlin eyes him suspiciously but decides that he really isn’t _too_ upset about having to play the waiting game again.

* * *

“Holy shit,” Merlin says as the band members walk out on stage. Arthur laughs gleefully and Merlin turns to him to repeat, “Holy shit. How did you know?”

“It wasn’t _that_ hard,” Arthur answers, amused. “All I had to do was look at your CD collection. Which, by the way… Who even owns CDs anymore?”

“Shut up!” Merlin says, but there’s no heat in it. “You already know I don’t have an iPod!”

Arthur chuckles, then suddenly grabs Merlin’s arm and pushes it up into the air. Before Merlin can question what the hell he’s doing, the lead singer gives him a rushed high-five and runs on to do the same for the rest of the front row. “Oh,” Merlin says, blinking stupidly at his own hand for a moment before lowering it.

“‘Oh,’” Arthur echoes with a smirk. He turns his attention to the stage as the singer introduces the rest of the band, and Merlin follows his lead. If he’s pressed a little too close to Arthur’s side, well, he really can’t be blamed. The pit is very crowded, after all.

* * *

It’s dark by the time they get out the doors. Merlin’s still running high on adrenaline and there’s a slight ringing in his ears, but apparently the night isn’t over yet. Arthur hails a taxi, babbling off an address once they’re settled in the backseat.

The driver nods and pulls back onto the street. It’s probably the most dangerous car ride Merlin’s ever taken, but curiosity and excitement outweigh the vague terror that settles into the pit of his stomach. Fifteen minutes later, they arrive at their destination, and Arthur pays the cabbie before dashing around to hold Merlin’s door open for him. Merlin rolls his eyes but lets him play the gentleman without objection. Arthur glances at his watch with wide eyes, then gestures for Merlin to follow as he speed-walks through the doors and gives his name to a worker standing at a small podium.

“Reservations?” Merlin hisses through his teeth as the employee leads them to their table. “This is a fancy restaurant? I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt!” He nervously runs his hand through his hair and cringes. “…And still sweaty from the concert.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Arthur says offhandedly once they’re seated and left on their own. “It’s not _that_ fancy.”

Merlin glances around the room and is relieved to see that he’s telling the truth. They certainly aren’t the only ones dressed casually, at least. They read over their menus, and a waitress arrives to take their orders after a few minutes. Silence falls as she walks away, and Merlin stares down at his hands where they’re folded on the table. Of course the one time when they _should really be talking_ would be the time when he can’t find anything at all to say.

But when he looks up, he finds Arthur beaming at him and can’t help but smile back. It starts to really sink in then—he’s _actually on a date with Arthur_. He huffs out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, and the other man tilts his head curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Merlin answers. He shakes his head when Arthur just continues to stare at him dubiously. “Really, it’s nothing, I just… can’t believe we’re actually _here_ ,” he adds, his tone making it clear that ‘here’ means more than just ‘this restaurant.’

Arthur nods in agreement. “I can’t quite believe it myself.” He’s still wearing that lopsided smile, but it morphs into a smirk after a minute of silence. He can tell that Merlin’s starting to feel awkward, so he quickly leads them back onto familiar ground with a bit of teasing. As if it were some huge burden, he says, “You know, it wasn’t easy to plan this.”

“I’d imagine,” Merlin says with a smirk. It’s easy to fall back into this pattern, comforting to return to the safe territory of their usual banter. “After all, this is probably your first time planning a date.”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur asks, wrinkling his nose. “I went on plenty of dates with Guinevere!”

“You did,” he agrees easily, “But _I_ was always the one to make all of the arrangements and remember anniversaries and get gifts.”

Arthur’s mouth opens on an objection, but he can’t really argue when Merlin has lived the proof. He settles for glaring silently instead. Clearly it doesn’t have the intended effect, because Merlin just laughs.

“No need to pout.”

“I am _not_ pouting!”

“Yes you are. But really…” Merlin says, sobering a bit but still beaming, “I’m touched that you’d go through the trouble to do this for _me_.”

“Yes, well…” Arthur says, waving it away with a cough. He doesn’t say ‘You make me want to try.’ He doesn’t say, ‘It’s worth it just to see that smile.’ Merlin must hear it anyway, because he only grins even wider and clasps Arthur’s hand where it rests on the table.

Arthur glances around the room nervously, and Merlin starts to pull away. He shoves down his reflexive reaction and grabs Merlin’s hand before it can slide out of his reach. His expression dares anyone to say something, though nobody is paying them any attention anyway. Merlin squeezes his fingers silently and doesn’t let go again, even when their food arrives and he’s forced to eat left-handed.

* * *

“You’re going to walk me home now, right?” Merlin jokes when they leave the restaurant. One hand is still tangled with Arthur’s, and the other is clutching his uncomfortably full stomach. It was delicious food, but they might have gone a little overboard.

Arthur hums, feigning contemplation. “That _would_ be the gentlemanly thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh yes,” Merlin agrees with a chuckle. “You wouldn’t want to seem impolite.”

“I suppose you’re right. I guess I’ll _have_ to, then,” Arthur teases. “It’s so far out of my way, though…”

Merlin snorts, then covers it with a cough to keep up the façade. “Well, I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you,” he says suggestively.

Arthur glances at him from the corner of his eye, surprised, but doesn’t turn. “Is that so?” he asks slowly.

“Mmhmm…”

“Well. Alright then,” Arthur says, sounding slightly off-kilter.

Merlin just smirks and tries not to let the quiet get to him this time. The walk home takes longer than usual, but he can’t really bring himself to care when Arthur’s hand keeps clenching in his own nervously and the city nightlife is starting to come alive around them.

Arthur’s clearly feeling antsy, and Merlin imagines him replaying his promise over and over in his head. He half-expects to be pushed up against the door the moment they get back and kissed within an inch of his life. He’s not sure he’d object. But instead, Arthur just closes the door, drops Merlin’s hand and toes off his shoes, and paces a few steps away with an almost lost expression. That’s the moment Merlin realizes that Arthur doesn’t know what to expect from him and is still trying to figure out just what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

Merlin smiles, tiny and fond, and walks over to take Arthur by the shoulders. He leads him backwards to the couch and pushes, gently urging him to sit down. Arthur obeys the silent request, and Merlin slowly straddles him, careful to keep his weight back near his knees to avoid spooking the other man _too_ much. Arthur’s hands flutter awkwardly at his sides for a moment before settling on his hips, and Merlin grins encouragingly. “Hey,” he says quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Arthur’s, “It’s okay.”

“What is?” Arthur asks, nose scrunching in confusion, and Merlin chuckles.

“It’s okay that you’re nervous,” he answers.

“I’m _not_ nervous!” Arthur objects defensively. He leans away suddenly, and Merlin doesn’t try to stop him.

“Alright. But if you _were_ … it’d be okay.” He reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind Arthur’s ear, just for an excuse to touch him, and Arthur’s face softens again.

“I’m not nervous,” Arthur repeats, calmer and surer this time. “Just… trying to figure things out, I guess.”

“What kind of things?” Merlin asks, still keeping his voice as low and soothing as possible, as if Arthur is a skittish horse. He doesn’t think Arthur would approve of the comparison if he could hear his thoughts.

There’s a long pause before Arthur reluctantly admits, “Things like ‘how to not mess this up.’”

Merlin feels a tiny piece of his heart break at that. “You won’t,” he says confidently.

“You don’t know that,” Arthur says with a hint of a laugh.

“I do too.”

“How?” he asks.

“Because it’s impossible. There are very few things that you could ever do to make me want to not be with you.” It feels too much like spilling a secret that isn’t meant to be told yet, but Merlin soldiers on and finishes, “And I know that you would never in a million years do any of those things.”

For once, Arthur is speechless. Merlin leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, and Arthur’s hands tighten on his hips. They relax again and he leans into the kiss, deepening it after a minute. Merlin hums contentedly, and Arthur has to pull back again to laugh. He doesn’t stay away for long, though.

They stay there, kissing lazily on the couch, until long after Merlin loses track of time. Arthur hadn’t seemed put off by his suggestive comments earlier, and he’d thought that maybe this would go farther tonight, but he suddenly realizes that it doesn’t _have_ to. They don’t have to rush. There is no battle looming ahead. They have all the time in the world. The rush that realization gives him is just as strong as the one that had come with Arthur kissing him for the first time.

“It’s late,” Arthur eventually says, close enough that his breath still mingles with Merlin’s.

“It is,” he agrees, though he honestly has no idea what time it is. Looking at the clock doesn’t really seem worth taking his eyes off of Arthur’s blue blue eyes or his kiss-reddened lips.

“We should go to bed.”

“We should,” he agrees, wondering whether or not that means _together_ , and if it does, whether it’s literal or not.

He gets his answer when Arthur gently pushes him off his lap and stands. He takes Merlin by the hand and leads him down the hall, pausing briefly to glance between their doors. Then he leads Merlin into his own room with an ‘explanation’ of, “You like the fireplace, right?”

Merlin smiles in surprise, nodding. He closes the door, and they separate and walk to opposite sides of the bed. They stand there awkwardly for a moment, staring at each other. Merlin is the first to break, turning around as he strips down to his boxers. He isn’t really nervous about Arthur seeing him. In fact, it’s the other way around that's making him anxious, which is strange. It’s never been a problem before. After all, it would have been rather hard to do his job for all those years if he ran in the other direction every time Arthur was shirtless (or, gods forbid, completely naked) around him. Somehow it’s different now, though. This new… whatever it is between them (he refuses to give it a name, for fear of jinxing it) _makes_ it different.

Merlin takes his time folding his clothes into a neat pile. To himself alone, he acknowledges that it’s utterly ridiculous, because he never does _that_ , either. When he finally turns back around, he sees Arthur tying the drawstring on a pair of sweatpants and climbing into bed. He stares at Merlin for a long moment, startling a bit when their eyes meet, and then holds the covers up in invitation.

Merlin nods and slides in next to him, staring up at the ceiling. He waves his hand and flicks the light off as an afterthought, so all that remains is the flickering light from the fire. It’s probably dangerous to sleep with it going, but a few muttered spells (Arthur staring almost disconcertingly intensely all the while) ensure that they’ll be protected from any accidents. When he’s done and there’s nothing left to distract him from his current situation, Merlin sighs and turns his head to look at Arthur, who gives him a soft smile in return.

“Goodnight, Merlin,” he whispers. After a moment’s hesitation, he slips closer and wraps his arm around Merlin’s waist.

Merlin stiffens on reflex and forces himself to relax. Then he rolls onto his side, sliding closer to Arthur and lacing their fingers together again. Staring down at their hands, he can’t help but grin stupidly, silently thankful that Arthur won’t be able to see his expression from this angle and get _too_ big of a head over it. “Goodnight, Arthur,” he returns, before letting the comfortable heat of the blankets and the fire and Arthur pressed against his back lull him slowly to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you were only waiting for them to get together, then it's happened. But this story is still far from over. If you still want to see the more plot-heavy parts, then there's a lot more to come (don't worry, there will still be plenty of fluff, too--it just might not be the focus). I'll be really happy if you guys decide to stick around for the ride, but I won't be offended if anyone decides that this is their stop haha. Either way, I hope you've enjoyed it up to this point!
> 
> ETA: Sorry guys, but I'm putting this fic on hiatus for a while. I haven't been able to write for the past week because of carpal tunnel, and the time away made me realize that I desperately need a break. I'm getting really burned out on this fic, and you all deserve better than the half-assed chapters that will come from me losing interest in writing them. Also, this is the point where I need to start doing actual research, so it would take longer even if I kept working on it right now. So for now, I'm gonna write for other fandoms and/or just take a break from writing in general. But I said it's not over yet, and it's not. I _will_ finish this, I promise. Hopefully you all understand and can forgive me for making you wait a while.


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